What Lies Within Us
by kittycob
Summary: Tristan's come back, but he's not exactly the boy he was before. Rory has grown up since then too. Trory fic as I am delusional, set generally in the present. Rating will rise later will be clarified. And no, I'm no good at summaries.
1. Prologue

**Title: **What Lies Within Us

Chp. 1 Prologue  
(just a little intro)

**Disclaimer**: I don't own nor am I associated with Gilmore Girls. I bet you are all shocked.

**Introduction**: I know I'm delusional….but Trory. Well, obviously not at first because that would be too easy, but I wanted to clarify. Basically set in the present, _slightly_ altered to make things work.

**Rating**: Pg-13. For now. It's the way I am with fanfic, the rating will raise.

**Author's note:** I hate reviews (I'm also a really bad liar).

* * *

Rory sat at a table at Luke's, attempting to read her political studies book while Lorelai flirted shamelessly with the proprietor at the counter. There was a final on Tuesday, and she swore she wouldn't make it necessary to pull an all-nighter like last time. Of course Luke's wasn't the best study environment, but he had good warm coffee and beggars couldn't be choosers when one was in Stars Hollow, not exactly renowned for it's libraries.

Desperately, she tried to focus on the political infrastructure of the countries of North America as Miss Patty was getting into a debate with Taylor behind her over his "suggestions" regarding her choreography for the dance at the Christmas pageant. "Really Taylor," she was saying irately, "The day I let you tell me how to choreograph is the day Kirk gets a steady job…."

She huddled with her sweater around her; it had been a cold winter, but snow had yet to fall in Stars Hollow. Most of the residents were disparaging that they might not have a white Christmas. In a town like Stars Hollow, that seemed the end of the world. What would the annual Christmas pageant be like without at least a glisten of snow on the ground? Not that it hadn't happened before, but Stars Hollow tended to over dramatize things

The ringing of her phone broke into her concentration which was minimal at best anyway. Out of habit she checked the call display before answering; Logan. "Hey," she answered, taking a soothing sip of coffee, "I thought you were studying." She shielded the phone, knowing Luke still wasn't too thrilled with the concept of cell phones in the diner, no matter who he was dating.

"No," his voice came over the phone, "You TOLD me to study and for some reason assumed I'd comply….I, being me, chose to catch a movie with Finn."

"A movie?" Rory's tone was slightly disbelieving, "Isn't that a little commonplace and boring for the two of you."

"We wanted to act along to the movie at the front of the theatre while it was playing…..Finn does a pretty convincing Julia Roberts when he's in the mood. Took the theatre workers at least half an hour to notice what was going on."

"And kick you out?" Rory asked with a smile on her face.

"Of course not. I pride myself on talking my way out of any situation," Logan said smoothly. "Or, into any situation for that matter."

"Listen, I'm going to stay over an extra night at home," Rory told him, smiling gratefully as Luke not only refilled her coffee, but didn't do more than spare a disparaging glance at the cell phone. "Lane's band is playing at a local club. You are of course invited if you're in the mood," She added that last part, knowing he never would. Since they had started dating a month ago, he had come to Stars Hollow once. And, after he lasted about an hour, she knew he wouldn't likely be back. To put it mildly, the small town atmosphere wasn't his 'scene'.

"I have plans," he circumvented the invitation as she knew he would. "But come by my place when you get back to campus tomorrow; we'll be around. Already planning an end of finals shindig for the society; it's far superior to studying."

"I'll see you sometime tomorrow," she promised, and flipped the phone shut just as Lorelai sat down across from her, trying hard not to have a guilty look on her face. It seemed best to be discreet some of the time as Lorelai hadn't warmed up to Logan yet. She didn't seem to take to the outwardly charming type.

"Limo boy?" she asked, sneaking a fry of Rory's plate.

Rory just shook her head, "It's time to stop calling him that mom." It had been long enough since that incident. Then she smiled, "At least upgrade it to limo 'guy', he is 22 years old."

"Positively ancient," Lorelai said sarcastically, leaning back in her chair. She hadn't seen much of her daughter's latest boyfriend, but couldn't say she was fond of the boy from the few times they had met. She tried to be reserved in her dislike as Rory seemed to have no intention of breaking it off any time soon. "Honestly, the day a daughter of mine dates someone my parents would approve of….although the only thing to recommend someone to them appears to be family connections and money."

Rory just ignored her, accepting the fact that her mother was not a fan of Logan. "I'm going to go back tomorrow morning instead of tonight…I want to catch Lane's band playing, she called earlier to tell me they have a gig in Hartford. I haven't heard them in awhile, and feel guilty being an absentee friend so often."

Lorelai looked momentarily taken aback, then said quickly, "Allright."

"What is it mom?" Rory asked, not missing the hesitation.

"Nothing," Lorelai tried to look innocent, fiddling with the salt shaker.

"What?" Rory insisted, "I'm not going to quit until you tell me what it is."

"Fine," Lorelai replied, shaking her head. Then, attempting for a nonchalant tone, she continued, "It's just….Luke was, ah, spending the night."

"Oh," Rory's response came slowly. Logically she knew her mother and Luke were sleeping together, it was just something she had never been forced to dwell on. It was her mom, but one didn't tend to like to think about sex when it came to a parent. "Listen mom, I appreciate you shielding me from your love life. But I'm an adult now. My rooms downstairs. As much as I don't like dwelling on that aspect of your love life, you don't have to cancel your 'sleepovers' just because I'm home. It's Luke." When she finished she realized that didn't make it better. She had said it 'was Luke' to illustrate it wasn't some illicit affair, but really, it was disturbing in its own way. Now not only did she have to think about her mother having sex. She had to think about Luke having sex. With her mother. Rory decided it would probably best for her peace of mind to wear ear plugs to bed.

Lorelai was silent for a moment. It had been one of her rules, separating that part of her life from Rory, even when she had been going to marry Max. But her little girl was an adult now. Not that the fact changed the relationship, but she was older. Ok, and although she tried to forget that it had ever happened, Rory had slept with someone too. And, this was Luke. She wasn't going to flaunt it, but Rory could handle knowing she was having sex. "I think I'll sleepover here," she compromised calmly, taking a sip of her own coffee. She'd never had sex with her daughter in the same house, and regardless didn't think tonight was the time to start. How married parents did it she would never know.

Rory just shrugged in response, and slipped on her jacket. "I'm going home to study, so I can at least partially justify going out tonight. I'll talk to you before I leave for the concert?"

Lorelai nodded, "I just have to stop by the inn to sign a couple papers then I'll be home. Don't study too hard; there are still weeks of finals to go. And, I like my daughter sane. Well, as sane as she tends to be."

"Ha ha," Rory replied sarcastically and pulled on her mitts and scarf. "And who's the one who suggested we have an adult-themed Christmas pageant this year? And, at the town meeting no less."

Lorelai just shrugged innocently, "At least we wouldn't have to spend a lot on costumes."

* * *

It was early the next morning when she pulled out of the driveway. Just as well Lorelai had stayed at Luke's. At 8 AM, it was not like she would have been up to see off her daughter. She had to compromise on the late sleep in sometimes as Luke operated a diner that opened early, but made sure it wasn't that often. Rory had left a short note saying goodbye and promising to come home for at least a couple days during finals if she had time, which she knew she likely wouldn't. Full course load meant finals spread right up until Christmas.

The drive back to Yale didn't take too long. It's wasn't as if there was snow to slow down driving conditions. As it was already December, she had cranked up her favourite Christmas CD to sing along to as she drove. As it was every year, it could be hard to get into the Christmas spirit with finals up to pretty much the last day. She tried to make at least a partial effort to be part of the holiday season. Last year she had attempted a little Christmas tree in their dorm room until Paris had make her take it down, claiming it to be a distraction or some such nonsense.

"…partridge in a pear tree." She was warbling as she pulled into the dormitory parking lot. She stopped off at her dorm room to drop of her stuff, noticing she was the only one there as Paris was up and about already, probably at the library pouring over the books. That was the one thing nice about a roommate like Paris; she was even more anal-retentive when it came to school work than Rory was.

She decided to head over to Logan's like she'd promised. It was around eleven, so it meant Finn would be asleep for at least another 3 hours, but maybe she could get in some quick time with Logan so he wouldn't feel neglected when she ignored him for studying. Logan never did poorly in his classes; it was just that her concept of hard work and dedication was foreign to him. He sometimes had a hard time understanding that her not seeing him wasn't neglect, it was a necessity so she could study and get decent grades. She wasn't the type who could just write a final off the top of her head. Wrapping herself in a scarf and touque, she decided the walk would do her good, and besides, there was a coffee stand on the way.

When Rory arrived, she knocked on the door loudly; she sometimes got a perverse pleasure out of waking Finn. One of her few joys in life. Even though today she had come specifically when he would be asleep, she couldn't resist. But she heard Logan coming to the door, so she refrained from pounding loudly like she sometimes chose to do since they didn't have a doorbell.

"Hey," she smiled in greeting as he pulled her into a slow kiss. That was one thing that was easier to do when his friend wasn't around. She let herself relax and enjoy it as he pulled her closer. When they pulled apart, she said teasingly, "One might almost think you missed me."

"After a couple days?" Logan looked at her disbelievingly. And the thing was, he probably hadn't. He just wasn't the pining type of person.

"My mistake," she said dryly as he stepped aside to let her in, not really hurt. Sometimes she wondered if she should care more, but accepted the fact that maybe growing up meant relationships were like this.

"Listen, there's someone I wanted you to meet," he said, as he unwound her scarf from around her neck and tossed it on the table. "An old friend of mine. He's enrolling at Yale next term and staying on our couch for a couple days."

Rory nodded, and avoided rolling her eyes. She had met a lot of Logan's old friends. Spoiled rich kids for the most part. Some were amusing, but more were haughty and too snooty for her tastes. "Not another James Crossley?" she asked, fervently hoping that it wasn't like the last one of his friends she'd met. "I don't think there's a single aspect of my life he didn't inadvertently insult."

"No," Logan told her chidingly, "And even if he were like that I couldn't tell you because he's sitting on the couch behind you in the living room."

"Oh," Rory could feel the blush on her cheeks beginning to form. She turned around, prepared to offer some apology, when the sight of Logan's guest stopped her in her tracks.

"Tristan?" was all she said.


	2. Reacquainted With The Past

**Title: **What Lies Within Us

Chp. 2 Reacquainted With the Past

**Disclaimer**: I don't own nor am I associated with Gilmore Girls. I bet you are all shocked.

**Introduction**: I know I'm delusional….but Trory. Well, obviously not at first because that would be too easy, but I wanted to clarify. Basically set in the present, _slightly_ altered to make things work.

**Rating**: Pg-13. For now. It's the way I am with fanfic, the rating will raise.

**Author's note:** I hate reviews (I'm also a really bad liar).  
Oh, and just to make note from one of the reviews I received, I can't guarantee what will happen but cannot make Logan an amazing character as they obviously need a reason to break up.

* * *

"Rory?" His voice was as shocked as hers as he got to his feet. Tristan looked past her to Logan, "You're dating _him_?" It was not the first thing she expected to hear out of his mouth, nor did it look like he had planned on saying it. 

"Thanks for the compliment," Logan said dryly, not really upset by his friends comment, throwing his arm around Rory. "I take it that you two have met before?"

"We...ah...went to the same high school. Chilton. " Rory said by way of explanation, still shocked to see Tristan standing there. She hadn't seen him since then.

"Before he got shipped off to soldier school then?" Logan laughed, "Still can't believe that Dugrey here spent time in a military facility without committing suicide, but stranger things have happened."

He looked different than he had those years ago. She didn't know what she had expected. Perhaps a practically shaved head characteristic of what she associated with the military, even though he would have graduated a year ago. But his hair was similar to what it always had been, short but not buzzed. It was more than he looked older and no longer had that devil-may-care attitude about him. There was a scar on his right cheek. Light and obscure, but it was still there and obviously from something more than a shaving cut. There was a slight stubble on his cheeks, a change to her as she remembered him clean-shaven.

"How've you been Rory?" his voice was clearer now, as if he'd gotten over his initial surprise. It was a deeper voice too. She knew it had been a long time, but she couldn't help but be reminded of the way he had used to call her 'Mary' every second sentence.

"Good," she wasn't sure what else to say. It's not as if they'd been best friends when he'd left, or they'd kept in contact since. She doubted he wanted to hear her whole life story from the past couple years. "You?"

"Good," she caught him saying it with a faint smile. It was as if he realized her discomfort, and didn't know what to say either, "Fine." He added that last part after the fact as if it were somehow a more interesting response.

"You two are scintillating conversationalists," Logan told them, taking his arm from around Rory and going to flop down on the couch. After a moment of indecision, Rory went and joined him. Tristan looked uncomfortable, finally opting to sit on the floor. "Before he showed up at my door yesterday, I haven't seen Tristan since he came home for the summer after graduation from military school, when I had just finished my first year of university. Our parents live not too far from each other. I think you were about, what, a week at your parents house before taking off again?"

"Yeah, I wasn't there long," Rory could hear the tension in his voice as he said those words, not elaborating. Obviously his parents were a touchy subject, and one he wanted to avoid.

"So," she cleared her throat, wanting to break in and ease the moment, "What have you been doing since high school? Are you transferring from another university?"

"I did a tour of duty," he explained simply. "I'm just starting school here next term. I'm getting a place in residence in January when someone else leaves, but for now Logan's been kind enough to put me up."

She couldn't actually picture Tristan as a real soldier. Military school was one thing, but he had been forced there by his father, like most troublemakers. But him willingly joining the service was something she couldn't reconcile with the boy she had known. She tried not to let her shock show on her face, but she could tell Tristan noticed, and she felt a twinge of regret at her response.

Logan rubbed her shoulder gently. Rory was a little surprised as he wasn't usually given to public displays of tender affection. Making out was one thing, but real intimacy was another. "Listen Rory, I wasn't expecting you so early…"

"I know to the two of you noon is practically the middle of the night," she turned to him, giving him a smile. "I wanted to catch you while Finn was still in bed."

Logan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and she laughed, "Not for that reason idiot. Wanted to see you so you wouldn't feel neglected when I had to start seriously studying for finals."

"Such an affectionate girlfriend, viewing visiting me as a duty. But, what I was trying to say was, I have a meeting with a professor right away. Seems since I didn't actually write the midterm or come to most classes she doesn't want me to write the final. I'm going to make her see the error of her ways. Would you mind if I left you here with Tristan for awhile? I shouldn't be long, and you two can catch up, or sit here and stare at each other for that matter, I don't care which."

"No problem," Rory said easily, having no doubt Logan would be back quickly with the professor's permission to write the final. Nobody seemed to say no to him. Besides, what else was she supposed to say? 'Don't leave me alone with Tristan because it will be awkward?'

And no doubt trying to talk to him would be awkward. It was often uncomfortable enough running into someone you had been close friends with after a long period of time, or making polite chit-chat with a complete stranger. Weirder still to try and make conversation with someone who….well, she couldn't define exactly the type of relationship or lack thereof she had enjoyed with Tristan in the past.

"I'll see you soon," Logan promised, giving her a deep kiss as he stood up to go. He didn't tend to do things in half measures, even when they were around people. Well, she supposed he had shown restraint when he met her grandparents. And she had stepped on his foot when he had tried to kiss her in front of Lorelai.

And then she was left with Tristan.

He cleared his throat and stared at his hands. "Sorry." Was all he said, shortly.

Of all the things for him to say, that wasn't what she had expected. "Why?" she asked, astonished at his apology.

"You're at Yale, aren't you?" he replied with a weak smile, waving his arms around. "I guess that means Harvard didn't realize what they were missing and passed on you. I remember that was all you ever dreamed of."

"Oh, thanks," Rory was actually touched, "No, they, uh 'realized' and accepted me. I just decided to come here in the end. Harvard had been the dream, but I can say since coming here I haven't had any regrets. It's actually been nice to be able to go home once in awhile. So, what made you decide on Yale? Why not some other school, or West Point for that matter from the sound of things?"

He shrugged and looked uncomfortable. "I wanted to go someplace good," was all he replied with.

She heard a tone of bitterness in his voice but had no idea how to explain it. "A state university is 'good', Ivy-League is the best, buddy." She tried to keep it light, not sure what else to do.

"Conceited much?" he asked, but she could tell he was joking and she laughed.

He smiled, and she was again stricken by how much he had changed. Oh sure, there were similarities about him, but he was no longer the boy who made her life at Chilton a living hell for awhile, or got himself kicked out of school. Of course you couldn't really judge a person from a five minute conversation, but it was the impression that she got.

"What are you studying?" he asked. "Pre-med? Pre-law?" It actually seemed to be the question everyone asked her. Apparently she had missed the rule that stated everyone with smarts and ambition had to try for those two professional colleges.

Rory shook her head, "I want to go into journalism. Most of my classes have been geared towards that. Philosophy, political studies, English and all those type of subjects.."

"Lofty ambitions," he seemed impressed. "And not exactly a career with a lot of job security. Good for you."

"Well, I've had a Christine Amanpour complex for a long time now," she quipped with a smile. "So, you as a soldier, huh? I will honestly say I'm a little surprised. Where did you do your tour?"

"Afghanistan, then Iraq," he said shortly, and like so many other things, she could see it wasn't a subject he was comfortable talking about. "I got back to the States about a month ago."

"You decided what you're going to study?" she asked, not sure what to talk about as there seemed to be a lot he wanted to avoid, and school seemed a safe subject.

He shrugged, and seemed almost embarrassed to tell her. "I want to study medicine," he finally said. "I know it seems silly, but…."

"Why is it silly?" she asked, but she knew why he said that. He thought her opinion of him was still what it was in high school. It made her feel small, but she had looked down on him then. She would have said that 15 minutes ago she could not picture Tristan DuGray as a doctor, but she was trying to adjust her opinion of him as she got to know the 'new' Tristan. "I'm sure you'll make a good doctor."

He didn't say anything for awhile, and she just stared at her hands, not sure what else to say to him. It shouldn't be this awkward. She had kissed him once at a party, it's not like they'd dated or slept together.

"Paris is going here too," she said, just to break the silence. And, because she couldn't resist, "She didn't get into Harvard. We're actually living together. You remember her right?"

"It's pretty hard to forget Paris," Tristan laughed, and Rory smiled at the truth of his statement. "But I actually knew she was here. I ran into her two years ago, and we've exchanged a couple e-mails since, just to keep in touch."

"How's your mom?" he asked after a moment of silence; it was if they were covering all the pleasantries without saying anything too deep to one another.

"She's good," Rory told him, again unsure of how to answer the question, or how much he wanted to know. "She opened her own inn in town, the Dragonfly."

"And your boyfriend? I can't remember his name, Dean was it?"

Rory felt a little pang at the mention of his name. Tristan never knew about the break up, the interlude with Jess. He didn't know that Dean got married, or slept with Rory while he was married. He didn't know that that night was one of the biggest regrets of Rory's life. And, like most of the people in her life, he would never know. "We're not dating anymore," was all she left it at.

He just nodded at her reply. Nothing life-shattering in those simple words. Young couples broke up all the time. No reason to suspect the life-altering turmoil she'd gone through since. He seemed to hesitate a little, then said, "I was surprised to see you were dating Logan."

As if that hadn't been obvious. It wasn't like he was the only one. Her mother had been shocked when she had met him. Even though she rarely admitted it to herself, Rory was too. Logan was one thing as a casual friend, as a boyfriend it was different. "Oh really?" was all she vaguely replied.

"He's like me in high school except hides it in a refined demeanour," Tristan told her, "He's not your type Rory."

"Oh, and what's my type?" Rory demanded, a little annoyed with his condemnation of their relationship. It didn't help she thought the same thing half of the time. "You haven't seen me in years Tristan, you're not qualified to judge what's my type and what isn't. Logan's a good guy." And, it was true, he didn't know her anymore. She was no longer the 'Mary' she once was. And Logan had been good for her too. He had opened her up to things she wouldn't have experienced otherwise. It sounded like a flimsy excuse for dating someone, but she wanted to ignore that part.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you" he replied hastily, seeming to already regret his words. "Listen, forget I said anything. Logan's been a good friend of mine for a long time. I know he's a good guy. I'm living on his couch, aren't I?"

Again, they sat in awkward silence, not looking at each other. Tristan fiddled with his watch and Rory played with her mittens she had sat on the table in front of her.

They were saved from each other when Finn walked into the room, yawning, and asked, "Who died?"

* * *

Next time: We get a peek into Tristan's world. 


	3. The Beauty of Dreams

**Title: **What Lies Within Us

Chp.3The Beauty of Dreams

****

**Disclaimer**: I don't own nor am I associated with Gilmore Girls. I bet you are all shocked.

**Introduction**: I know I'm delusional….but Trory. Well, obviously not at first because that would be too easy, but I wanted to clarify. Basically set in the present, _slightly_ altered to make things work.

**Rating**: Pg-13. For now. It's the way I am with fanfic, the rating will raise.

**Author's note:** I hate reviews (I'm also a really bad liar).

* * *

Tristan just looked at Logan as they sat in front of the television. He wanted to tell him not to waste his time with Rory, she wasn't his type. But, it wasn't his business, not by a long shot. And after so many years, it was inevitable that Rory had changed. He just wouldn't have thought she would change enough to be happy with someone like Logan Huntsberger. An older and _slightly_ more mature version of him in high school. The type of guy who still pulled a girl's hair as an indicator that he liked her (or, as the story Logan told went, interrupted her philosophy class). And, the type of guy who slept with a different girl every weekend (or night during the summer).

"How long have you been dating Rory?" was all he asked, grabbing the beer that he had been drinking.

Logan shrugged, "About a month officially, we knew each other for longer."

_ Have you been sleeping with her? So when will you dump her? _Those were the questions that ran through his mind. He didn't analyze what it meant that he cared that much after all these years. But again, all he said was, "We went to high school together. She didn't have too much use for me then." An understatement. He could still remember the condemning words she had for him.

Logan laughed, "I'm quite surprised actually. She must have been about the only one at your high school. I knew you in those days man. Rebel 'badass' of the rich kids with an underlying sensitive streak. All the chicks fell at your feet."

Tristan just smiled, taking a sip of his beer. "Not Rory." She had been too good for him, and she still was. Just for different reasons.

Logan shook his head, "And to think I've succeeded where the might ladies man Dugrey failed boosts my ego up another notch."

Tristan smirked at him, "Not that your ego needs any more inflation."

"I'm wounded," Logan pointed a finger at him. "You've turned so cruel. But, entertain yourself for the day, okay? Finn and I've got plans, and I won't be back until late."

He shrugged, "Not a problem. I don't expect to be entertained."

When Logan closed the door to his room, Tristan just sat there for a moment. He and Logan were pretending that everything was the same as it had been when they had known each other growing up. They were miles apart personality wise then they had been back then. It was a farce, but they pretended all the same. It was easier that way. Tristan had had no place to go, and not enough money to rent a place until the term started, and as scary as it was, Logan was the closest friend he had left. He was older in so many ways since he had gotten kicked out of high school, and he could never go back to the boy he had been, as much as he wanted to in some ways.

He pulled on a pair of sweats and runners, deciding to go for a run. Tristan tried to picture his chain-smoking self in high school ever imagining that he would be choosing any physical activity that wasn't between the bedsheets. It had been ingrained in him both in military school and then in the service itself. He felt lazy if he went so much as a day without a good run.

The air outside was cold, but there wasn't a flake of snow on the ground. While it made it harder to breath, at least he didn't have to worry about slipping on the ice. He looked around the campus as he ran through. It was relatively deserted, most people choosing to curl up in a warm room or library to study rather than be outside in the freezing weather.

He still couldn't believe he was here. Yale. And on his own merits. Oh, before he had always assumed he could get in anywhere with his family's money and connections. That was the DuGrey way. But he was here now because he had qualified, and he was doing it on his own. _All_ on his own. The campus itself was beautiful, but with that sort of stuff he wasn't that hard to impress. It could have been a dump, just so long as it was one of the top universities in the country.

Unbidden, his mind turned to thoughts of Rory. There was someone he had never expected to see again. He wouldn't pretend he hadn't thought fleetingly about her over the years, but it had been a long time. He always wished he had gotten that one last kiss in, boyfriend watching or no boyfriend watching. He imagined she still wouldn't have much use for him. As condescending, annoying or whatever it sounded like, someone who could be qualified as a 'Mary' didn't go for him; the kind of guy he was in high school, or the kind of guy he was now.

When his breath started to labour, and his chest started to burn, he kept pushing on, not wanting to end. Running used to be an escape for him. Now it was nothing but an opportunity for his thoughts to haunt him. In a way, he welcomed it as much as he hated it. There was really no escape most of the time now, but at least this way he could deal with things on his own without interruption. Running was an escape from people, from talking. Those weeks he had been laid up in some crappy military base after his injury had been the worst. Doctors and nurses prodding him, and psychiatrists poking their heads in every time he was fully conscious. And there had been no escape. Now, he could just run for as long and as far as he wanted to and block others out.

By the time he ended up back at Logan's, it was much later and he was drenched in sweat despite the cold weather. He noticed two girls nearby looking appreciatively, but he couldn't bring himself to do more than smile weakly and wave, which made them laugh and turn away. With the temperature outside, his breath was slightly wheezing, and he could see its effects in the air.

He let himself in with the key Logan had given him, fully expecting to be alone. He wanted nothing more than a long hot shower. He walked into the living room area, pulling his sweatshirt over his head only to see the person who had been standing there when he was done.

"Hello father," he let the words come out with contempt.

* * *

Rory walked up to Logan's door. She had left her philosophy textbook there the other night and needed to retrieve it. She had no expectations he would be home; he rarely was.

She opened the door with the key he had given her (for emergencies only, but to her this qualified) and immediately wished she hadn't. She was immediately confronted by yelling voices. Tristan was there and he wasn't alone. From the brief look she had seen of him before, she thought it was his father.

"You will come home now!" Tristan's father was fuming at him, as he kicked a stray shirt that was lying on the ground out of the way. "You will have some respect for us as your parents. We deserve that at least."

"Really?" Tristan's voice dripped with sarcasm. "I missed the part where you did anything to deserve it. About all I have to thank you for is shipping me off to military school. Not the most compassionate choices, but it did me a world of good. Of course you mocked everything I had become in the end, but I suppose you'd think that was beside the point. And refusing to send me to a good college because you believed I'd make a mockery of the Dugrey name? My, that was very supportive parenting. God _dad_, I even gave you a chance when I got back from my tour, even though you never visited me once in the hospital, and again spent every day being ridiculed. I'm done, I'm not coming back."

"And how are you going to pay for this jaunt at Yale?" his father yelled sarcastically. "They don't exactly give free rides here."

"The same way I told you I was going to when you informed me after high school you wouldn't pay to see me make a mockery of the family name, the military pays for it. I just have to work for them when I get out. I didn't just sign up for a love of country dad, I did it to earn my independence from you. I paid a high price for it as you know, but I'm beginning to think it was all worth it. And besides, what's killing you is the fact that I got in on my own, unlike you whose daddy had to pull some strings for him."

"Don't delude yourself on that. And, the US government is going to pay for you to come here and gallivant for four years? I doubt it son. They don't really have use for someone who has a degree in basket-weaving, or whatever it is that you're capable of getting at Yale. I don't have all the money in the world to pay off all your professors." Rory couldn't believe the things the man was saying.

Tristan just gave up. It was as if he had heard these things before. Rory wanted to yell at him to punch his dad. To tell his father he was going to be a successful doctor. To remind him how he had turned his life around. And as she watched, she too wanted to kill Tristan's father for putting that look on his face. Nobody deserved to hear those things from anyone, let alone a parent.

"Just go dad," he heard Tristan say quietly. "Logan must have let you in out of the goodness of his heart, but don't you dare come again. This is someone else's home. Our talking accomplishes nothing. Just leave, and don't come back. If you're really worried about your all important image, don't come back."

His father didn't even say goodbye, just stormed out of the place. Rory pushed herself against the wall on the other side, trying to stay out of his line of sight. As he slammed the door behind him, Tristan saw her. His face took on even more of a defeated look. "You heard all that?" he asked weakly, and she saw a wave of embarrassment cross his face before he covered it up.

"Tristan, I'm so sorry," she wasn't even sure if she was apologizing for her being there, or for what his father had said. "I came back to get a book…I had a key…I didn't think anyone would be here."

"It's not a problem," he said briskly, picking up the sweater he had pulled off earlier just for something to do.

Unsure of what to say, Rory walked over to the table where she had left the book and picked it up. The urge to run out was overwhelming, but she couldn't just leave Tristan without saying anything. "He's wrong you know," she was surprised to hear the words come out of her mouth. "What he said? About you not being capable? He was wrong. You'll make an amazing doctor." And, at this point in time it didn't matter if that was true or not. It was something that had to be said because it was something he needed to hear. Nobody could go far if the only words they heard were discouraging. "You'll become a doctor." she said again.

"Thank you," was all he said. Because in truth he wasn't so sure himself, and not just because of the seeds of doubt his father had planted. He had never been a stellar student, mostly due to apathy. He had never had to try. Yeah he had done well academically once had had left Chilton, but in a way that almost didn't count. This was what mattered to him, and he was scared to death he couldn't cut it out here in the real world, at a real school. There was going to be so much on the line. It was what he wanted, but at the same time what he feared. He had chosen this once not to play it safe and it terrified him.

She just nodded, and made a move to walk past him to the door, then turned back. "Listen Tristan, if you ever need to talk about anything, anything at all, I'm here. I know we're not best friends like you and Logan, and I haven't seen you in years, but I'm here if you ever need to get something out, okay? I can be a good listener. And school stuff? Let's just say I understand."

"Thanks Rory," he said softly. Of course this shit was just the tip of the iceberg of his problems, but he would never burden her or anyone with the real story. But, it was nice to feel like he had a nice, normal friend again.

She hesitated, then squeezed his hand briefly in sympathy, not knowing how that short contact touched him.

He watched as she went over to the corner and grabbed the textbook from the corner where she had left it before. He wished she hadn't heard that, but there was no escaping it now. Tristan had changed a lot, but in some ways he was fundamentally the same. He didn't want to have his weaknesses perceived by others; Logan still had no real clue why he was here instead of at his parents, that's likely why he had let his father in. He hated the embarrassment that had rolled over him when he realized Rory had heard the things his father was saying. Rory, who had never not been able to accomplish anything, one of the smartest people he had ever met.

"Bye Tristan," she said, hesitating by him for a moment before walking by. He got the distinct impression that if they had been closer friends she would have stopped and kissed him on the cheek, but had felt uncomfortable with it. He knew that was a good idea, but he still couldn't stop feeling a slight twinge of disappointment.


	4. Watching, and Wondering

**Title: **What Lies Within Us

Chp.4 Watching, and Wondering

**Disclaimer**: I don't own nor am I associated with Gilmore Girls. I bet you are all shocked.

**Introduction**: I know I'm delusional….but Trory. Well, obviously not at first because that would be too easy, but I wanted to clarify. Basically set in the present, _slightly_ altered to make things work.

**Rating**: _Pg-14 _Slightly higher for this chapter due to somewhat sexual situations (just to be careful, I'm warning, even though it isn't much.)

**Author's note:** I hate reviews (I'm also a really bad liar).

* * *

Rory walked out of her political studies final, exhausted and depressed. She would never understand why professors felt the need to try and kill students on the final. Three hour exams were stressful enough without the added stress of material that they had never seen before.

She was surprised to see Logan waiting there for her. "How'd it go?" he asked, wrapping his arm around her.

"Like crap," she admitted, gratefully leaning on his shoulder for a moment before pulling away. "I love sitting in the middle of a final, seeing all your career dreams going up in flames…."

He just laughed, which made her momentarily want to smack him which proved what a great mood she was in. "Relax Rory. I don't think it's physically possible to study any more than you do, as I noticed during your complete neglect of me at times. Therefore, on the off chance you actually somehow managed to do poorly, the marks will be curved as everyone else did worse than you."

"We'll see," was all she said, wanting to forget about this for a little while at least. "So, what are you doing here?"

"I can't just come to support and be close to my amazing girlfriend?" he asked innocently, holding her hand as they walked from the room, surprising Rory as while Logan was comfortable sucking tonsils in public he wasn't given to tender public displays of affection.

"You? No." she replied doubtfully, stopping to look up at him.

He laughed, "Well, it's not like I have a sinister ulterior motive here. I just wanted to catch you before you went to the library or some other godforsaken place to study. You see, you have this habit of turning off your phone which cuts of all contact."

"It's called 'being productive'," she replied sarcastically, pulling on her jacket as they reached the doors of the building.

"Anyway," he said, wrapping her scarf around her neck for her. "I wanted to see if you would deign to join me for supper this evening. Real food, in a real restaurant. Not the coffee and junk food you've been existing on for the past couple days."

She pretended to think about it, but only for a moment as she felt guilty for neglecting him for so long. "Allright. I'll have to make it an early night though, but that sounds like a good idea. I need some coffee as a pick me up now though."

Logan smiled, and still didn't let go of her scarf, "I have an idea," he said wickedly, pulling her closer with the outerwear, "Until then why don't we go back to your place and 'catch up' a little?"

Rory blushed, as she always did, it was still an ingrained response. "As lovely as it sounds," she kissed him gently before pushing him away, "Paris is studying at our place."

He smiled, "We'll be in your room Rory, not hers."

She rolled her eyes, "Logan, I'm sorry, but I won't be interrupted during any 'catching up' we're doing by her coming in to get quizzed or debate a philosophical issue. Doesn't really set the mood does it?"

He shrugged, opening the door for her so they could slip out into the cold weather. "I don't know, I find that studying turns me on. And 'studying' with two girls…."

She just laughed, taking it as a joke. She knew he would have no problem doing anything at her place, but she would. The fear of someone walking in on them didn't do it for her. Especially when she knew Paris would as she was oblivious to everything else when she was studying.

"Ok, compromise," he said, wrapping an arm around her. "You'll go grab some clothes from your place to go for supper, and we'll go back to my place for a bit. I need some non public time with you Rory."

"Agreed," she said, kissing him gently.

* * *

"I've missed doing this while you were studying and ignoring me," he said, right before he ran his lips down her collarbone. "And I imagine I'll be missing it again soon."

Rory just moaned softly, as his lips made there way back to her mouth. She had no answer for him. She felt bad whenever she had to put him off to study. But this was her life. School would get her where she wanted to go. She knew studying hard wasn't his philosophy, but it was her and she couldn't change it.

He gently pulled her shirt the rest of the way off her shoulders, and gently trailed his lips down lower again, teasing her before moving back up to her mouth and wrapping his hands in her hair.

She opened her mouth wider, allowing his tongue to slide in to play with hers. His shirt was off and she allowed her hand to rest on his chest. Devoid of hair, it was smooth to the touch. When he pulled away slightly, she ran her hand over him, pressing some points she had learned he liked. He smiled, and gently cupped her breast, causing her to moan slightly again.

But when his hand moved to the snap on her jeans, she stopped him as she always did.

"Logan…," she said on a sigh, straightening her shirt and pulling slightly away. Every time he tried to take the petting further, and every time she had rebuffed his advances. She didn't want to be a tease, but she had been clear from the beginning.

He didn't say anything, but she knew he wanted to. He'd said it all before. She'd been honest with him, she'd told him about Dean; it seemed wrong not to. Maybe it was just a stereotypical male response to think along the lines of 'if you did it with him you can do it with me'. She regretted having done it with Dean, and she certainly wasn't going to sleep with some guy she had dated for only a month. But, sometimes deep down she wondered if maybe he had a point, no matter how much she hated it when he brought it up. Logan was never mean about it, and somehow that made her feel worse. At least if he constantly complained, or tried to force her, she could place blame on his head as being the bad guy. But he was never cruel about it, and that just made her feel guilty because every time they were together she knew where he wanted it to lead. It's why they had gone as far as they did, so fast.

She looked at the clock beside his bed, and noted the time. "You should get ready to go for supper," was all she said, avoiding the issue at hand like she tended to do as she buttoned up the last couple buttons on her blouse. "I'm going to go straighten up in the washroom." And she left him lying there as she slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her.

When she turned around, Tristan was sitting there on the couch. She didn't know why it still shocked her. She should remember he was effectively living here for now, but he tended to be gone a lot when she was here alone with Logan. She should technically be grateful for that, but felt bad he had to find somewhere to go just to give them some privacy because that's what she knew it was. He didn't really have many friends here yet.

Rory didn't know how, but she could tell in his glance that he took in her tussled appearance and knew what it meant. "Hi Rory," was all he said casually as she felt the blush begin to burn in her cheeks. He hadn't known they were in there.

"Hello Tristan," she replied, opting to pretend nothing was unusual. And really, nothing was. Logan was her committed boyfriend and it was the 21st century. It didn't make her a slut being alone in his room with him. There was nothing to feel apologetic for. "How are you?"

"Bored," he replied honestly, putting down the book he had been reading. The _Broker_ by John Grisham. Dostoevsky it wasn't, but she wasn't a literature snob. Well, at least not too much of one. "I've never had this much free time in my life before."

"I'd trade you that free time for never ending studying," she sighed. She saw him glance at her chest and then away, and she wasn't sure whether to be insulted he looked, or feel bad he didn't see anything worth looking at. Then she looked down herself and realized she had buttoned her blouse incorrectly and her pink bra was showing. She wasn't sure the blush on her face could get any brighter. Trying to do it as calmly as possible, she quickly buttoned up her blouse correctly.

"You'll have the place to yourself if Finn isn't here," she kept talking, trying to cover her embarrassment. "We're going out for supper. Logan's just getting changed, and I'm going to freshen up." But she felt bad, leaving him there all alone. "Actually, did you want to come Tristan? Like you said, you must be bored out of her mind."

He shook his head, looking bemused. "Don't feel bad for me Rory. I'm a big boy. I can handle some time all by my lonesome. I don't think Logan, or you, would appreciate the third wheel on your date tonight."

"Oh, we wouldn't…"

"Rory, don't worry about me. Go have dinner with your boyfriend" She had wanted to reassure him, but he cut her off. In truth, she knew Logan would be annoyed. And he would have a right, even if Tristan was a good friend. She supposed she shouldn't worry too much. It was still Tristan. If he tried, he could probably get a couple dates just by walking across campus.

She just smiled and walked into the washroom. She looked in the mirror only to see that her lipstick was smeared from kissing Logan, and her hair was still extremely messed. The exact image she must have presented to Tristan.

Rory didn't know why it bothered her to much what Tristan thought of her. And, she wasn't sure why she felt guilty for doing stuff with her legitimate boyfriend. With his past, he would be the last one qualified to make judgements, but she still didn't want to advertise. It just seemed that every time she kissed Logan in front of him, she felt like she was doing what he had done when he used to make out with those girls in front of her locker.

* * *

Tristan's thoughts about Rory were far from judgemental. Lately, as he had been forced to see her and Logan together, he had been bothered from a slight feeling of jealously. Initially, he hadn't been sure if it was jealousy simply that they had a close relationship that he didn't, or jealousy specifically over Rory. Either way, he tended to make himself scarce when they were over here, not wanting to watch the two of them together.

But tonight when she had walked out of Logan's room, he knew that part of his problem that he was attracted to her all over again. It was the same as when they were in high school; of course then he hadn't really accepted his feelings for her at all, or known how to act on them. Logically, he knew there were plenty of girls outwardly prettier than her, maybe even girls smarter. But, it was the package that was her he was attracted to again. He had never known anyone that self-assured. Since he had been here they had plenty of interaction, both with Logan and without as he tended to be out a lot when she stopped by, and he was reminded of all the things about her that were good.

Deep down, so deep that he wouldn't admit it to himself, was the fact he was bothered that she was sleeping with Logan. He had sort of deluded himself on that one until he had seen her state of disarray coming out of Logan's room. It wasn't that he begrudged her sleeping with her boyfriend; it was more that he had figured Rory to be too smart to fall for Logan's lines. Truly, he wasn't a bad guy, he just wasn't someone who wouldn't commit to monogamy. He supposed maybe Logan had changed, they hadn't been close in years; if Tristan could, anything was possible. Hopefully with Rory it would be different.

Tristan knew that nothing would come of it. He wasn't going to act on his attraction. Logan was the closest thing to a friend that he had and he would never screw him over that way. And he knew Rory wouldn't look at him twice in that capacity, as more than a friend of her boyfriends.

But that didn't stop hismind from wondering every once in awhile.

Logan came out of the room, and Tristan forced his thoughts from his friend's girlfriend and back to the book he was attempting to read. Literature still really wasn't his thing, but he could deal with mindless fiction to pass the time.

"You guys going out?" he asked casually, as Logan finished putting on his tie.

"Supper," Logan explained in the typical short way of the male species. And Tristan just nodded.

Rory came out of the bathroom, straightened up with makeup reapplied. Tristan knew he would know live with the image of her tussled after sex for a long time to come now. He felt like a fucking voyeur. She smiled at the two of them, avoiding Tristan's eyes as Logan passed her jacket to her.

"Get a life," were Logan's jesting parting words as he opened the door to leave, and Tristan rolled his eyes and threw a pencil at him which made Logan laugh.

"Bye Tristan," Rory said as she followed Logan out the door; even he could see she was blushing from the couch. He didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable in her own space, but knew he couldn't change what happened earlier. He would just have to be more careful to be gone when they were here together, to save all of them embarrassment. It wasn't like he had a room to escape too.

He tried to immerse himself in the book for awhile longer, for lack of better entertainment, but knew it was futile as he just wasn't in the mood. Leaning over, he rummaged around in his duffel bag for his discman in an attempt to do something to keep him occupied. But, just as he slipped on his headphones the phone rang.

Logan had never said anything about answering the phone, but Tristan figured as long as he was here he might as well make himself useful as a living answering machine. "Hello," he answered, going to grab the portable phone that had been left in Finn's room.

"Hello, Logan?" the woman on the other end asked.

"Logan's not in right now," Tristan balanced the phone under his chin as he searched for anything to write with, "Can I take a message for him?"

She hesitated for a moment, "Well, nothing important….just tell him Laurie Chambert called, and he can try me back. The number is 222-8840."

"Got it," Tristan said, scribbling the number on a napkin with a highlighter he had found laying around, and they both hung up.

Pinning the message to the wall by Logan's room, he thought nothing of it.


	5. Despite the Best Laid Plans

**Title: **What Lies Within Us

Chp. 5 Despite the best laid plans.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own nor am I associated with Gilmore Girls. I bet you are all shocked.

**Introduction**: I know I'm delusional….but Trory. Well, obviously not at first because that would be too easy, but I wanted to clarify. Basically set in the present, _slightly_ altered to make things work.

**Rating**: Pg-13. rating will raise.

**Author's note:** I hate reviews (I'm also a really bad liar). Thanks to everyone who is actually reading this. Sorry took so long to update. In repentance, I've made the chapter longer. Well, that's a lie, it was going to be longer anyway. And, although I don't like to point this out, no matter how much editing I do, there were certain parts of this chapter I couldn't get to sound exactly the way I wanted.

* * *

Rory sat in the passenger's seat of Logan's car, idly fiddling with the radio stations as he drove. It was almost like a thing of pride with him, never to let her drive, as they always took his car. Dinner, as usual, had been amazing. Logan favoured fancy restaurants when they went out together. As often as they did it, Rory would more often than not be comfortable in a place like Luke's, but it was hard to complain when you were in the lap of luxury. 

Logan stopped by her dorm, and she smiled, leaning over and giving him a quick kiss, "Thanks for supper, it was nice."

"Nice?" he raised his eyebrows at that. "Top of the line restaurant, and all you have to say is nice?"

"Very nice?" she asked innocently, kissing him again. "I'll try and give you a call sometime tomorrow, all right?"

"The Life and Death Brigade has an event tomorrow night," he told her, grabbing her hand before she could get out of the car. "Fun, frolicking and high drama. I assumed you would want to get the scoop, Ace."

Rory sighed, "Logan, I told you, I had to study. And as fun as it likely will be, this is slightly more important."

"Study in the morning," he replied with a hint of impatience. "Your next final isn't for a day or two. Then, you can come out tomorrow night and we'll have a good time. Besides, at the very least you need the experience for your article."

"I can't," she told him firmly, feeling a tug of guilt just like she did every time she had to turn his invitations down. "I really have to study Logan. I have to do well in my classes, and I can't just squeak by. I'm really really sorry, next time, all right?"

"Fine," he replied, disgruntled. One attitude she couldn't picture Logan Huntzberger taking often. But he seemed to put it aside. "I know you're heading back to Stars Hollow on the 23rd when your finals are done, but I have something for you." And he handed her a parchment envelope with her name one it.

"What's this?" she asked, even as she opened it.

"It's an invitation to my parent's annual Christmas party," he explained as she read the piece of paper before her. "They've wanted to meet you since word seems to have gotten around that we are dating. Hazard when your grandparents and my family know each other. Anyway, they decided Christmas would be the perfect time; it's actually the night of the 23rd. I'd like it if you'd come."

"Of course," Rory told him, putting the invitation back in the envelope. In truth she couldn't stop feeling a twinge of apprehension. Meeting the parents was never an easy thing. Meeting the parents at a society function was even harder. "Now, I'll talk to you tomorrow, I promise."

"Bye Rory," he said as she kissed him on the cheek before slipping out of the car, and leaving him sitting there.

* * *

Logan opened the door to his place. Tristan had just slipped out of the washroom, clad in nothing but his boxer-briefs and an old top to go to sleep. "Good thing my girlfriend didn't come back here," Logan told him pointedly, tossing his keys on a chair. Tristan just shook his head, knowing Rory had to study that night, as he flopped on the couch that he slept on. 

"Just tired," he yawned loudly, but knew it would be futile to try and sleep since Logan was home. Not exactly a believer in the 'early to bed, early to rise' philosophy, Tristan was often up and about half a day before Logan even crawled out of bed.

"It's those stupid military hours," Logan shook his finger at them, "You think you could get out of the habit. For God's sake, it's not like some trumpet is going to go in the morning and wake you up at five."

Sometimes, he wondered exactly what Logan thought military life was like. Maybe like some updated version of MASH or something. In real life, what he had joined had been much different, and not half as heartwarming. But, he supposed it wasn't like he had ever mentioned how his wake up call some mornings in the past two years had been a car bomb. "If I tried to go with your social schedule anymore I think I'd die," he pointedly yawned again.

But Logan was ignoring him as he grabbed the message Tristan had pinned by his door. "Figured you'd get the message if I put it there," Tristan explained.

A person would have to be blind to miss the guilty look that crossed Logan's face, and Tristan felt understanding begin to dawn on him. "Are you cheating on Rory?" he tried to keep his voice calm and even. After all it was Logan that he was supposed to be friends with. Intellectually he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised, but he had seen them together, he had seen the way Rory smiled at him. Maybe he had just hoped it had been different with her.

"No, of course not, I would never do that to Rory," Logan sounded indignant enough at the accusation that Tristan found himself believing him. He watched as Logan took the piece of paper and tore it up. "Listen Tristan, I'm not, but it's not for lack of trying on Laurie's part. She's an old friend, and we've hooked up before. This time, I've told her I had a girlfriend, and she's just having a little problem accepting it's not going to happen. It's not a big deal, just annoying."

Tristan nodded, accepting it, knowing that Logan had no reason to lie to him. He was the friend, not the girlfriend. The confidante. Despite knowing that Tristan had known Rory long ago, if he had two girls going at the same time he probably wouldn't hesitate to brag about it. "Want me to tell her anything next time she calls back?" he just asked, not prying further.

Logan shook his head, "I can handle the situation with her. Like I said, it's no big deal. I've turned down girls before. Not many mind you, but I have done it."

Tristan smirked at that, and bet he could count on one hand the number of girls that Logan had turned down. At the same time, he knew that he was at least at some level mostly relieved that Logan wasn't screwing around on Rory. She was with him, and didn't deserve the hurt that would cause her.

Logan headed off to his room, apparently for once deciding to leave Tristan alone and give him some quiet to go to sleep. "Don't get up too early," he warned Tristan as he stopped in the doorway.

"Any particular reason this time?" Tristan asked, "You've only told me that every night since I've got here."

"You're coming out tomorrow night," Logan explained, "I'm not going even pretend that you don't know about The Life and Death Brigade…your father, and father's father etc. were in it. It's time you picked up the family torch and joined, now that you're a Yale man. And besides, it'll be a good time. We need to get your social life started here."

When he put it that way, there was little else that Tristan would find less desirable to do, except perhaps a root canal. But he wasn't going to let his bitterness over his father shape his life, and Logan seemed fairly insistent that he go. "Fine, I'll come," he replied, knowing there was little else he could do.

* * *

The next morning, Rory sat in the coffee shop near her dorm, snacking on a muffin and coffee for breakfast. It was early in the morning, and the only people up and about were those who had a final to write that morning and wanted to get some last minute cramming in. She had been at the library late the night before, and was headed back there again. Technically one wasn't supposed to take coffee or other beverages in there, but generally the library security looked the other way. 

She had the routine down now. She hated the early morning study periods, but it was no different from a morning class. And sometimes there was just stuff you had to do. There were only a few finals left, and then it was home for Christmas, another term at Yale done.

She looked up when a shadow fell over her table. "Tristan," she said in surprise, shocked to seem him there, "What are you doing up so early? Last time I checked you were the only one not obligated for any reason to be up before noon."

He plopped down in the chair across from her, "Habit," he explained, setting down the book he had been carrying. Rory noticed it was a course calendar for Yale. He noticed her staring at it and added, "I went to officially register for my classes this morning. There were a couple I couldn't get into, but I worked most of it out.

"What specifically are you taking?" she asked, sipping at her warm coffee. "I imagine I could scrounge up some old textbooks from friends if you're interested. I know other pre-meds who would have taken the same classes."

It still shocked him to even be referred to as 'pre-med', but he shook himself out of it. "That would be great if you could. I'm taking basic biology, biochemistry, organic chemistry, psychology and anatomy."

"Not exactly a light course load," she commented. "Not even throwing that simplified required English in there are you? Well, I suppose it'll be a break come next year. I'll be sure to see what I can do."

He watched as she drank her coffee, knowing it was her needed kick in the morning. Well, morning, noon, night, it was all the same. "I assume you'll be studying all day?" he asked, motioning towards the backpack she carried.

Rory nodded, "No surprise there. Next final is my 18th Century English Lit class, so that's what I'm focusing on today. It's back to the library where I can't be bothered by the pesky vitamin D sun gives, and where I can get a headache from the flickering fluorescent lights. I don't want to know what you're doing with your day of freedom, it will be too depressing."

"Nothing exciting," he said, then added enigmatically because he didn't know what she had been told about Logan's secret life. "Then I'm, uh, going out with Logan later."

"To the Life and Death Brigade thing?" she asked in all innocence, finishing off her muffin and tossing the wrapper in the garbage.

"You know?" he asked, a little surprised.

"Let's just say I'm a bit of an honorary member," she replied wryly, adding some more sugar to her coffee. "Don't worry, you're not spilling any top secret stuff. I know it all. Was invited tonight but decided my education was little more important. Sure getting right into the thick of it all fast, aren't you? I hope you have a tux."

There had actually been a note out this morning instructing him to get one. He really had no idea what went on at these stupid fraternity things, or whatever it was that the Brigade was. He had known about it from his grandfather, but never had been much interested at the time. He couldn't picture Rory fitting in with those spoiled rich kids having a good time, but who knew.

"Want company for the afternoon?" he asked, actually as surprised himself as she looked to hear the words coming out of his mouth. As if he felt the need to justify it, "I'm bored out of my mind here Rory. I can quiz you or something, I promise not to be a distraction, well at least not too much." Besides, studying was platonic and safe. He wouldn't feel like he was betraying anyone doing that.

She thought about it for a moment, knowing she would probably get more done without him there. At the same time, it was lonely holed up in the library studying all day, and it would be helpful to have someone there to help her go over things. She couldn't believe that he wanted to do this rather than spend the day in freedom, but she supposed boredom did that to people. "You promise I'll actually get some work done?" she asked, rather sternly.

"Kick me out any time you want," he promised, "There won't be anyone up at Logan's for hours yet, and I need something to do. Really, anything will suffice."

"Fine, but I swear watching water boil would be more exciting than going to the library with me," she warned, gathering up her books to stand. She knew it was because he was desperate, and he didn't know anyone else here yet, but all the same she looked forward to spending some time with him, even if it was only studying.

* * *

"Ok, I give up. Brain on permanent meltdown status. Brain cortex saturated with new information," Rory mimicked in a robot monotone voice as she leaned forward in her chair, resting her head on her crossed arms on the table. 

"Ten more Rory, then break time. Your rules." Tristan reminded her, picking up her notes again. They were in the basement of the law library on campus, Rory's favourite study spot. Fairly deserted, and usually quiet, it also allowed them the opportunity to talk out loud without getting yelled at.

"Fine," Rory said, shaking her arms out as an athlete does before a run, "Give me the next one."

"Who wrote _Jane Eyre_?" he picked a random question out of his head, rather than one of the pre-approved material she had given him.

The look she gave him was withering, "This is a university English class Tristan, not ninth grade language arts. I somehow doubt that Professor Alden's questions will be fill in the blank. It'll be something more along the lines of "Compare and contrast Austen's differing views on the characterization of the female protagonist in _Jane Eyre _and _Pride and Prejudice._"

"Do that then," he suggested, with a smile, leaning back in his chair.

Rory just shook her head, then looked at him with a slight smile on her face. "Let's change the rules," she suggested as he flipped through her notes, looking for a topic to review with her. When he looked up at her words, she seemed a little bit embarrassed, but continued on. "I get the answer wrong, you can ask me anything you want and I have to answer. I get it right, I get to ask you anything."

Tristan leaned back, and crossed his arms. He could see where she was going with this. She wanted to talk, go deeper than the pleasantries they tended to exchange, and she was looking for an excuse. She had never been comfortable with the touchy-feely, and didn't know how to bring it up. "Rory," he said as she looked at him expectantly, "We can talk without the premise of a game. If there's something you want to talk about, just ask me. I may not answer, but you can ask. Besides, if we went that route you'd be asking all the questions while I just got put on the hot seat."

She hesitated for a moment, twirling her pencil around her fingers. Despite being around all the time, he was still an enigma to her. Since he'd come to Yale there was a lot she had wanted to ask him, but it was hard to just blurt most of it out, especially when he didn't seem comfortable talking about most things relative to him. "Fine, we'll start off with something basic. Favourite author?"

"Don't really like to read," he answered honestly, knowing he probably dropped a few notches in her estimation with that one. "I'll read stuff by Grisham or Stephen Frey when I'm really bored, but that quality literature stuff isn't for me."

"It doesn't have to be classic-worthy to be good," she was insistent as she went on, "Some of my favourite books have never been taught in any classroom."

The look he shot her showed his disbelief, and she shot back, "Have you ever heard of _Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret._ One of my favourites._"_

Tristan snorted sarcastically, "No Rory, never heard of that one. And, I hate to break it to you, but that's been taught in a bunch of classrooms. I think our school gave that to the girls to read rather than have a real health class."

She laughed, acknowledging the truth in his statement, "Fine, but you get my point, not exactly Austen now is it?"

He shook his head, "Let's just leave it that reading for me is something to do to pass the time when there's nothing else available. I'm not illiterate, it's just not my favourite activity, like it is for you."

Rory leaned back. It wasn't like she was looking for him to give a different answer; he hadn't become a completely different person. It had just been an easy question to start with, rather than lead off with something deep and personal right off the bat. And, because of who she was, she had to argue her opinion.

She looked at him expectantly, awaiting his question of her, but he didn't seem to even be paying that close attention to her. He wouldn't look at her directly, and his shoulders were distinctly shaking. "What is it?" she asked.

All he gave in response was a snort of laughter, and replied, "Nothing."

Immediately paranoid, she checked to make sure she hadn't gotten something embarrassing on her, like written on her face in pen. When she was reasonably satisfied there wasn't anything untoward about her appearance, she looked back at him, and he was laughing full out by then. "What is it?" she demanded, more insistent this time, wanting to know what the hell was going on.

He seemed to be laughing too hard for a moment to get out any words, but eventually he forced out, between hiccupping laughs and doing the movements from the book half-heartedly, "We must, we must, increase our bust."

When she caught on, she threw a pen at him in mock-disgust, but really she found the image of Tristan acting out a scene from Judy Blume more absurd and hilarious than anything she had seen in a long time. She burst out laughing too, and that just set him off again.

And that was how Logan found them a moment later. Laughing, their heads close together, her hand resting on Tristan's forearm. They didn't even hear him when he approached.

"Hey Rory," the words cut into their laughter, and she turned to see Logan standing there, looking down at them.

"Having fun?" was all he asked dryly, but there seemed an undercurrent to his tone. He kissed his girlfriend on the cheek, who had desperately tried to squelch her laughter. He faced her alone, "I had been trying to get a hold of you, and when your phone was off assumed you were holed up in some dank place on campus, cramming your head full of knowledge."

"I was," she gestured towards the notes. "Libraries aren't good for much else. But, as shocking as it was, Tristan was insanely bored and offered to help me review. We were just discussing, ah, literature." And it was all she could do not to start laughing again, and Tristan snickered from across the table, before reigning himself in and composing his face into its usual mask of implacability. When Logan looked a little perturbed, she just kissed him on the cheek, "I'll explain it to you later, but it'll lose a little in the telling."

"Well, killing two birds with one stone then," Logan replied, a bit of fake cheeriness evident in his voice as he looked at Tristan, "I've been looking for you as well. We're taking off soon, and I guess from the look of things you're still in need of a tux?"

Tristan nodded, closing Rory's notes that he'd had open in front of him. "Sorry about that, it's just that I've been here most of the day."

Logan didn't look thrilled by that statement, but just said "We'll find you something," and then turned to Rory, "Can I talk to you for a second?"

She nodded, looking a little bit confused, but followed him over to a different area of the library, leaving Tristan sitting there. "What's up?" she asked, leaning in to kiss him, but was hurt when he pulled away.

"Explain this to me Rory," he asked her as she looked at him, baffled, "You don't have time for me at all, not even to go out for a couple hours this evening because you have to study, but you have time to hang out with Tristan, and all day by his own admission."

She stared at him in shock, "For God's sake Logan, you heard me. We were studying, all day. He had nothing better to do, and decided to come. Weird, but true. You're welcome to come along with me any time, as long as I get studying done, you know that. You caught us after his making a joke, not a crime or any kind of infidelity, so chill out."

She watched him grapple with it for a moment, the wrapped his arms around her. "Sorry," he apologized, obviously out of practise with the act, "Overreaction, I know."

Rory was surprised that Logan had become upset at all. He had never really seemed like the jealous type. She supposed she had just assumed he didn't take this thing they had between them as seriously as she did; it didn't seem to be in his personality to do so. They had never said they loved each other, and it had seemed more about amusement rather than anything else. She felt bad for trivializing his feelings, assuming that was the cause of all this.

"It's fine," was all she replied, accepting his rather lame apology, "No harm done. Just remember, the only thing taking precedence over you right now is studying, ok? And that's just for a little while longer."

"I know, I know," was all he said, kissing her before pulling away, "Okay, Tristan and I do have to go though, don't want to be late. Last chance, sure you don't want to come? I know I can find some clothes for you."

She shook her head regretfully as she followed him back to where Tristan sat, "No, I have to stay here for a little while longer at least before I grab some supper and go back to the dorm to study there. You two can have a good time without me, you've done that often enough."

They approached the table, with Tristan looking uncomfortable as they walked up. Logan asked, "Ready to go?"

Tristan nodded, and stood. He pushed Rory's notes over to her. "Good luck," he told her with a smile as she sat back down at the table. He hesitated, then added, "I had a good time today. Weird thing to say about studying, but true anyway. We'll have to do this again sometime."

She laughed as she slid back into her chair, "If you're crazy enough, I have no objections. I'll see you guys later, have fun."

As Tristan smiled and turned from her to leave, he saw Logan looking at him and Rory, and his face had an expression that Tristan had never seen in relation to himself, and had never expected to see from Logan. In fact, had taken great pains not to see from Logan ever since he had realized he had feelings for Rory.

Logan was looking at him with distrust.

* * *

Oh, quick side note, obviously the 'bust' quote was from the afore-mentioned book. Just to clarify if people never read that Judy Blume book when they were younger. 


	6. One for Another

**Title: **What Lies Within Us

Chp.6 One for Another.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own. Duh.

**Introduction**: I know I'm delusional….but Trory. Well, obviously not at first because that would be too easy, but I wanted to clarify. Basically set in the present, _slightly_ altered to make things work.

**Rating**: Pg-13. rating will raise.

**Author's note:** I hate reviews (I'm also a really bad liar). Oh, and after seeing episode on Tuesday, actually wish I had read spoilers so I could have written this fic slightly differently. Oh, and I apologize for getting the author of Jane Eyre mixed up last chapter…..fairly unforgivable as it's one of my favourite novels.

* * *

Rory opened the door to her bedroom, and shut it behind her so she wouldn't have to hear Paris arguing on the phone with Doyle. There was a relationship with some interesting dynamics. She had just finished her second last final of the term, and wanted nothing more than to avoid studying for her last one. Eyeing her bed, she decided an afternoon nap was a necessity. It would help her concentrate on studying. Really, she could justify anything when she wanted to.

She had been asleep for not more than a moment when she was awakened by the ringing of her phone in her bag. Groggily, she forced herself out of bed to answer it. She flipped open the phone quickly before whoever it was could hang up and mumbled, "Hello?"

"Light of my life!" Lorelai's voice was loud in her ear.

"Hi mom," she replied, looking longingly back at the bed, knowing her nap wouldn't be happening that afternoon.

"Took you long enough to answer. And as you know, I have the attention span of a gnat, and find it hard to wait for anything, even as worthwhile as you."  
"I was in bed," Rory said to explain why she had taken so long to answer.

"Alone?" Lorelai asked.

"Mom!" Her reply was indignant.

"Sorry, had to ask. Middle of the afternoon…in bed…..what other explanation could there be?"

"Maybe exhausted from studying and the joy of finals at Yale?" Rory asked sarcastically.

"Better that than you and lim……"

"Don't mom," Rory warned with a sigh, cutting her mother off.

"I was not going to say limo-boy," Lorelai replied, trying to force some indignation into her voice. "I was going to say Logan, his name, both beginning with 'L'. Now, as for the purpose of my call….are you avoiding mommy? No phone calls, no dinners, no visits, one would begin to believe you didn't care."

Rory rolled her eyes, "No mom, I'm not avoiding you. It's called 'finals'. If you like I can spell that out for you again. Remember those things? Very important? The criteria by which the university judges you? Deciders of future career?"

"Because, just so you know, in addition to a short attention span, I also have a severe inferiority complex. If someone ignores me, I tend to believe that there's something wrong with me…"

"There is something wrong with you mom. But yes, I should have called. I'm sorry. I promise to smother you with daughterly attention during the break. Of course that'll be hard to do with you spending every night with Luke, but I'll do my best."

Placated, Lorelai continued. "So that bring us to the reason I was calling in the first place. Christmas. Joyous season and all that. We need to discuss itinerary. You see, you and I are very popular people, and there are demands on our time. Now, you're done the morning of the 23rd right? That'll leave you enough time to get back for the Stars Hollow Christmas pageant to kick off our holiday season."

"Ah mom, problem. I likely won't make the pageant. I've been invited to the fancy Christmas party at Logan's parents. Sort of obligated to go."

"Now other people's parents are taking precedence over me? But, you're going to regret coming not coming this year Rory. Despite the lack of snow, it'll be even better than last year when Kirk filled in during the 'dance of the sugar plum fairies'."

"I'm not sure what can top that…"

"Luke's going to be in it!"

Rory was aghast, "No!"

"Well, no he's not, but I almost had you coming home for it, didn't I?"

Rory laughed, "Take it is a compliment that I believed his commitment to you was strong enough that he would let himself get convinced into braving that."

Lorelai laughed as well, but sounded uncertain as she continued. "Listen, you're sure you're still okay with Luke spending Christmas Eve with us? I know we usually spend it alone, but this year…"

"I'm very fine mom," Rory reassured her, amused at how uncertain Lorelai was about bringing Luke further into their lives.

"Well, did you ask Logan about Christmas like I said you should? I figure since you're still in the 'honeymoon' part of the relationship you couldn't bear to be parted for the holiday season."

Rory hesitated, "Yeah, I did. He's spending the holiday with his family." In truth, he hadn't really wanted to come, and she hadn't made a big deal of it. She couldn't picture him fitting in with her mom and Luke. Lorelai sending him dirty looks all night wouldn't be fun for any of them if he decided to come. She waited a moment then added, "I was actually thinking of bringing someone else, if it's all right with you."

"Marty?"

"No. Mom, listen, I know people that you've never met. I know it's a foreign concept, but Yale is a big campus. As soon as I reference someone it's not automatically one of the two people you met before."

"So what is this mysterious stranger's name?"

"Tristan DuGrey."

Lorelai started laughing. "Such a big campus, and you couldn't find someone that you didn't go to high school with?"

"Ha ha."

"So, you're two timing Limo Boy with Bible Boy?"

Rory closed her eyes, praying for patience. "And this compulsive need you have to nickname everyone I come in contact with, quit it. And no, there is no two-timing. He's actually staying at Logan's, and we've become friendly again. It's just that I know he had nowhere to go for Christmas, and it would suck being literally the only one on campus over the holidays. I promise to tell you the whole story with him later."

"Your call," Lorelai replied carefully. "Just remember, Christmas day's with Richard and Emily. We do have other pressing invites, but we can put them off. Besides, this year there will be someone more uncomfortable than me there: Luke."

"You're cruel," Rory accused, but acknowledging that Luke would probably want to crawl under the table. "Listen, busy. Must go study. I promise to call soon, okay? We can have non-interrupted long chat."

"Fine, I will attempt to accept that I'm not the number one priority in your life, but it's going to be hard."

"Bye mom," Rory forced her mom to stop lamenting as she hung up the phone.

It had come to her the other day, wanting to invite Tristan back for Christmas break. She knew Logan had invited him to his parent's soiree, but for the rest of the time he would be here all alone. She wouldn't deny that part of it was a pity invite, but she wanted him there. It wasn't just that she didn't want him to be alone for the holidays, as it seemed impossible he would ever be going home, it was that she really wanted him to come home with her.

It had been easy to slip into a comfortable friendship with him. Easier than she had ever thought possible with Tristan DuGrey. Sometimes it didn't seem like they'd really only known each other for a couple weeks. And really, that's as long as they'd known each other. As she'd come to discover, high school didn't count. Not in any sense that mattered.

She had spent just the other evening with him. She had gone by to see Logan, and found he was out with his parents for supper. She had been a little hurt he hadn't called at all, but knew it was to be expected. She hadn't really been Ms. Available lately. Tristan had been there, just heading out as Finn had been entertaining a girl at their place. They had ended up just going for coffee. Something plain and simple, and easy. She would have never assumed he would be so easy to talk to, or so much fun to be with.

The only downside was he was never comfortable talking about the past. She tried hard not to be nosy, but it was hard as he liked to pretend that the years between when he left Chilton and now didn't exist. But, she knew all to well that talking wasn't something that could be forced. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't force confidences he wasn't ready to give.

She didn't want to analyze what it meant that lately when she headed over to Logan's place, she was looking more for Tristan than for her boyfriend. That when she pictured Christmas Eve at the Gilmore house, it was him she pictured there instead of her boyfriend.

As she grabbed her books for one of her last studying sessions of the term, she decided to stop by their place on her way to the library. She knew Logan would be home, and she would get the opportunity to talk to Tristan about Christmas. She knew he would probably hate spending time with her in Stars Hollow as much as Logan did, but she wanted to try.

* * *

"Hey Rory," were the first words out of Logan's mouth when he opened the door to find her standing there. "Didn't expect to see you today."

"Didn't plan on being here today," she replied with a smile, kissing him as she stepped inside. "I won't be for long though. But oh God, just one final left. I'm literally salivating at the thought of the term break."

"I'd prefer you be salivating over me," he tried to sound dirty, but she just laughed at the awful attempt at innuendo.

"So, I thought we'd head for my parents directly after you're done your final," Logan explained as she followed him into the living room. She was disappointed not to see Tristan there, but she put it aside and focused on what Logan was saying. "It's a bit of a drive."

"Oh, I'm going to take my own car," Rory replied as they sat down on the couch. "I'm heading back home directly afterwards."

"Come on, you can stay over at my parents," Logan cajoled. "Plenty of room and all. You can spend Christmas Eve with us; my parents will be thrilled that I'm actually bringing a girl home to meet them."

Rory just rolled her eyes at him, "You know I'm spending Christmas Eve with my mom, well, and Luke this year. This isn't some dinner, it's Christmas. I'm not just ditching them. I'm already missing some town stuff to go to your parent's party; I can't miss all our Christmas traditions. I want to spend time with you Logan, you know I do. I just really want to be with my family for the holidays. The offer still stands if you want to come home with me for any point during the holidays"

He didn't say anything, just kissed her. They had truly become the masters of avoidance at any topics that mattered. Sex, the relationship, it was all just easy to avoid talking about. It's not that she needed him to want to come back to Stars Hollow with her, to see her life there. She just sometimes wanted them to have a relationship that was based on something. Here at school, dating was easy; university, in a way, was its own little world. It would be hypocritical of her to lay all the blame on his doorstep, but she at least made an effort. She was going to his parent's society Christmas party, he couldn't even be bothered to visit her at home. But as usual, she didn't force the issue. She just kissed him back.

Rory heard the key in the lock before Logan did. When Tristan walked in, she pushed Logan away, causing him to look at her in annoyance. She knew she would have done the same thing if it had been Finn walking in the room, she wasn't an exhibitionist. She just felt more embarrassed with Tristan than she would be with anyone else.

"Sorry," he told them awkwardly, looking like he wanted to turn and walk right back out the door. Logan didn't say anything, and Rory just chose to pretend that he hadn't walked in on them making out.

"I'm glad you're here," she told him, and it was true, even if she wished it had been a few minutes earlier. "I wanted to talk to you."

"About what?" he asked, finally shutting the door, cutting off his route of escape.

"Well, Christmas," she replied simply. "I know you're coming to Logan's parent's party, but I just wanted to invite you to come home with me for Christmas. It's nothing exciting, but it would be nice if you could come. We'd really like to have you there." And she just looked at him expectantly

* * *

"You don't have to do that," those were the first words that popped out of his mouth. He knew that since she had witnessed the blow-up with his father she would have assumed he wouldn't be going home for Christmas. She would have assumed correctly, but he wasn't going to intrude on her holiday celebration at home. Christmas might as well just be another night, it wasn't going to make a difference. He hadn't been home for Christmas in years, ever since he left Chilton. Christmas here would beat last year's all to hell.

"I want you to come," he could see her mouth set in a determined line. Whether that was true or not, it was of course what she was going to say. When he opened his mouth, to spew out some lie about going to a friends, she cut him off, "Really, I won't take no for an answer."

"Okay, I'd like that," he answered, just picturing how much fun it would be. He could be her friend, do the platonic thing most of the time. He just wasn't looking forward to seeing her and Logan all lovey-dovey at Christmas. "Thanks for inviting me," he added to Logan, knowing after the past couple days he was probably the last person that Logan wanted there.

"Oh, Logan's not coming," Rory replied, and resisted shooting her boyfriend a dirty look. "He's spending the holidays with his family."

And with those words, the invitation took on a whole new connotation. Logan didn't looked thrilled with the prospect of her spending the holidays with another guy, especially one he had come to be jealous of; and, if Tristan were honest with himself, with just cause. Sometimes he wondered at Rory's naiveté. She seemed completely oblivious to the tension that existed between him and Logan now. It was never overt, just simmering under the surface waiting to break out. He knew his living here exacerbated the situation, but it was only a few more weeks until he had his own place in residence, and would be out of here. And he wasn't doing anything wrong, and he wouldn't. Thoughts and wishes were wrong only from the moral standpoint, he wasn't hurting anyone.

He wanted to back out, say he couldn't go. It wouldn't be fair to Logan, and in a way not fair to him. He knew if he were truly her friend, there would be no problem in this, he knew that. Just as he knew he wasn't truly her friend. Friends didn't lust after friends. But what excuse was he supposed to give? _Hey Rory, I can't come because I want you, and you've got a boyfriend who happens not only to be my best friend, but letting me live with him, who somehow seems to know I want you._

But Logan was speaking, "Who said I wasn't coming?"

She looked at him incredulously, and he continued, "I'll come, for sure. At the very least for New Years." He didn't want anyone else kissing her at midnight.

Tristan knew he alone was responsible for Logan's change of heart. He knew if he hadn't been going, Logan would have been perfectly content to stay far far away from Stars Hollow. He knew it was a good thing that Logan was going; when you actually dated a girl, you got involved with the family too. He just wished he didn't have to be there to witness it all.

He was denying himself something he wanted. A rarity to him even now. And, he wouldn't deny he wanted Rory. But, he was going to do the right thing. She had a boyfriend, his friend. But that was just the cover excuse. Tristan knew deep down he didn't care as much about Logan's feelings in the matter as he pretended he did. Even if they broke up, even if somewhere down the line she was available, he wasn't going to pursue her. His baggage was too much for him to handle sometimes, let alone someone else. Someone innocent, and sheltered like her. He wanted to be her friend, but it was hard to torture himself with something he couldn't have.

But he couldn't back out of going home with her. He had no plausible excuse, and he didn't want to see a look of hurt on her face. So, he just said nothing, and accepted the fact he would spend the holidays feeling like the perpetual outsider.


	7. Never So Vulnerable As When We Trust

**Title: **What Lies Within Us

Chp.7 Never so vulnerable as when we trust

(from a quote I read)

**Disclaimer**: I don't own. Duh.

**Introduction**: I know I'm delusional….but Trory. Well, obviously not at first because that would be too easy, but I wanted to clarify. Basically set in the present, _slightly_ altered to make things work. Oh, side note, and although this fic started before viewing of 'wedding bell blues', assume Rory and Logan got together in similar matter (they're just **not** having sex), and decided on some 'strings' eventually.

**Rating**: Pg-14 this chap. Maybe. Well, not really, but want to be safe so don't offend.

**Author's note:** I hate reviews (I'm also a really bad liar). Will update faster next time. I swear.

* * *

Ten more minutes.

Rory couldn't stop looking at the clock. She had finished her exam already, and since she couldn't leave until the allotted time was up, she had nothing to do but sit there and stare at the clock on the wall of the large Yale gymnasium where she was writing her final.

Nine more minutes.

Soon, she would be headed for home. Well, more accurately, Logan's parents on the way home. She had already pressed her short black dress to wear; any party thrown by the Huntsberger's wouldn't exactly be a jeans affair. She just prayed it wouldn't be too tedious; she had been enough to those kinds of parties at her grandparents. She could excel at the meaningless polite chatter with the best of them, she just didn't enjoy it. At least Tristan and Logan would be there.

Seven more minutes.

She just had to go home and pack some things, and then she would be ready to go. That was the problem with having two primary residences, you had to lug around half your stuff when you were going to be away any extended period of time. She had to admit, after the lack of sleep and stress of finals, she wasn't in the mood for any kind of social gathering, but this wasn't something she could just blow off.

Six more minutes.

She found herself wondering how it would be having Tristan home with her for Christmas. If she were honest, there were aspects of her invitation she hadn't considered before, she had just thought about how much she wanted him to come. Now that she had time to contemplate, she was nervous about bringing him home. Not just because she was scared he would hate it; and he might, he grew up in privilege, not the small town atmosphere. It wasn't just that, it was more that Lorelai would dislike him. Though there was no cause, she didn't want her mom to be dismissive of him the way she could be at times; she didn't just want tolerance. She had always been accepting of Lorelai's dislike of Logan, not that she could blame her mom, considering how they had met.

Three more minutes.

But it wouldn't be like that. Tristan, he wasn't Jess. He also hadn't met Lorelai while making out with her daughter, like Logan. And, he wasn't the boyfriend. Maybe that would be the difference. Of course letting friends meet her mom hadn't brought her this much anxiety. Lorelai wouldn't be purposefully hurtful, but she didn't think she would ever grow old enough she wouldn't look for Lorelai's approval on at least some level.

"Time's up," the proctor's voice cut into her thoughts. "Put down your pencils, and hand in your papers. Exam time is over."

She slid out of the desk she had been writing in, and took her paper up to the front. Smiling at the TA who had been administering the exam, she gave him her paper. After all that agony, that stress, she was done for the term. There could be really no words to describe the sense of relief that came when exams were done. Of course she'd be coming back in a short time to do it all over again next term, but it was best to put those thoughts from her mind.

Like she did often now, she decided to stop by Logan's yet again. She had promised she would be ready to leave soon after her final, but she wanted to finalize the plans for the day, and she wanted a moment to savour the end of exams before the rush to get ready to leave. The walk across campus was long and freezing despite the lack of snow, but at this point she couldn't care less about the cold. It only made her walk faster. But by the time she arrived, her nose was red from the weather, and she had her hands against her ears to ward off the chill. She met Finn in the hallway, who informed her that Logan was gone for lunch, but would be back soon. He tossed his keys to her so she could wait inside as he hurried by, forgetting she had her own set.

She let herself in, knowing she should probably just go home and start packing, but she figured he wouldn't be too long. Itwasn't like she wanted to get to his parents place too early. Right on time sounded just right to her. Fashionably late, even better. Besides, she was a fast packer. She could be ready to go quickly. Rory walked over to the couch, kicking aside the clothes strewn on the floor before she sat down.

It was as she was flipping through Finn (or Logan's, she wasn't sure), copy of Playboy that she had found tucked underneath the couch for some light entertainment, that she realized the shower was running. Funny how Finn had forgot to mention that little fact. It was only seconds later when the water stopped, and Tristan walked out of the washroom, clad in nothing but a towel. He stopped short as soon he saw her sitting there.

"Oh," was all he could say stupidly. Tristan was surprised to see her there, having no expectation she would be there this early before they left for Logan's parents.

Rory initially didn't say anything in reply. As soon as she had seen him, her attention had been drawn to his body. She refused to feel guilty over it. She was a normal, healthy, heterosexual female, and he had been in the military. A little ogling was expected. But in the end, that wasn't what kept and drew her attention. Running both down his right side, and one zigzagged across his chest, were 2 long and severe wounds, only partially scarred and obviously fairly recent. Before she knew what she was doing, she had stood up and gone over to touch him. "What happened?" she asked softly, resting her hand on the scar on his chest. She hated the thought of him in pain, and those wounds had to have caused him some severe degree of suffering. They were angry wounds, really the only word she could think of at that point to adequately describe them.

She was a little surprised when he pulled away from her abruptly and turned his back to her; it was then she noticed the third scar running along his back. He reached quickly for the closest shirt he could find sitting in the room, even though she recognized it as one of Logan's, and pulled it on quickly.

"Nothing," he replied firmly, yanking the shirt down and stepping as far away from her as he could and still be in the same room.

She frowned at the ridiculousness of his answer. Those scars, they were about as far from 'nothing' as one could get. "Tristan…" she began firmly.

"Listen," he cut her off, in a hard tone, "I don't want to talk about it okay? It's really none of your business."

Rory wanted to pretend that she wasn't hurt by his tone, or his words, but it was hard. She wanted to respect his privacy, but at the same time it wasn't that simple. She knew he had been withholding a lot from her, and it was hard to respect that. She had thought it the past couple weeks they had really become at least friends; she wanted him to be at least partially her 'business', and that had to include the stuff that really mattered. "If you ever want to talk about it….." she began hesitantly, not sure what else to say.

"I won't," he interrupted her, firmly, again.

She tried to squelch a feeling of hurt at his words as she backed away, and sat back down on the couch. He had never talked in such a dismissive tone to her, and it was hard to take. She tried to be accepting because she knew obviously whatever had given him those scars was a sensitive subject, but it didn't stop her from feeling hurt.

She watched him hesitate, and run a hand through his hair. He didn't look angry now, like he had when she had asked him. He just looked resigned, and a little sad. It was hard not to confront him. Tristan looked like he was about to say something, but thought the better of it and grabbed some clothes to go change in the washroom.

Rory knew she should let him go, just let him escape. He wasn't her boyfriend. Hell, they'd only really known each other a couple of weeks. But she found she just couldn't do it. "Tristan?" she said a little hesitantly, as he was about to shut the door.

She watched his shoulders slump, but he turned around. "Yes?"

Rory struggled for a moment with what she wanted to say. It was hard to bring this up without being confrontational, and she knew that would solve nothing. "I want to be clear on something here, are you and I friends?"

She watched him hesitate on that one, and not knowing why, couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt, but he quickly covered it by saying, "Yes." He looked scared at the admittance, scared that she was going to use it to try and force him to talk about what he obviously wanted left alone.

She chose her next words carefully, not sure how to play it. "You know I'm not going to make you talk about anything you don't want to talk about; I won't force confidences. It's your life, your choice, and I'll try to respect that. But know this Tristan; if we are really friends, and I'd like to think that we are, we can talk to each other about the stuff that really matters. Favourite book, favourite movie…that's something you can talk about with strangers. Friends get the down and dirty stuff. Just believe you can trust me enough to talk to me about anything."

He fiddled with his towel for moment before saying. "It's not about trust Rory."

The hurt was still there as she wasn't so sure. Stuff like this, it was all about trust. And, even as she opened her mouth to say something else, she suddenly stopped. It was all about trust, and it would be hypocritical of her to call him on it. It wasn't like she had been completely forthcoming about her past. Especially the stuff with Dean. And she wasn't sure she ever wanted to. All she had from her past were emotional scars, brought about by her own actions. He had the real live kind, and had a right to protect himself from reliving the past. So she didn't say anything else, just stared at him wordlessly.

"It happened on my tour of duty," his voice was abrupt as he said it. Her eyes shot up, surprised he was offering any kind of explanation after being so adamant about not talking about it. But that was as far as he went. No details. She accepted it, even though it wasn't near the truth. That general explanation was nothing, and something she could have inferred on her own. But even if it was all she was going to get, she would work to accept it. She didn't have the right to feel hurt.

They were interrupted by Logan walking in, and she felt a flash of annoyance that she realized was illogical as soon as she thought about it. "Hello," she forced a smile to her face, as she stood up to greet him. "I decided to stop by before I went to go pack; just finished my last final." She completely missed the look that crossed his face at the sight of Tristan in a towel, even though he at least had a shirt on now.

Logan just forced a smile as well as she stood up to kiss him. He didn't want these feelings of jealousy whenever he saw the two of them together. He didn't want to feel suspicion at her talking with Tristan in a towel. And he wouldn't have in the past, not just because Tristan was a friend, but because there had been no girl worth getting jealous over to this point. But now he couldn't stop the uneasiness he felt every time he saw them together. He gave in to his rather immature urge to deepen the kiss she gave him, even though Tristan was standing right there, and probably due to the fact that Tristan was there. He let his hands drift down below her waist because he was the one who had the right to do that. It made her pull away, as he should have known it would.

"What time are you going?" she asked, taking a step back from him, not having noticed exactly when Tristan had slipped into the washroom as Logan had kissed her.

* * *

Tristan splashed cold water on his face before he pulled on his underwear and pants. She shouldn't have been there when he came out. She wasn't supposed to see him with his shirt off. It was why he avoided the pool, why he wore a full shirt to the gym. It was why he had only been with one girl since he had been injured. The sight of his scars brought questions he didn't want to answer, topics he wanted to avoid. And, as he had learned with the one girl he tried to be with, a form of revulsion at the sight of them. She had been almost scared to touch him the whole time they were in bed together.

He had seen the hurt in Rory's eyes when he had snapped at her, and when he refused to talk about it. But as much as he hated it, he couldn't renege. He should be happy that she cared about him that much, but in it's own way it made it harder. He knew he had hesitated when she had asked if they were friends, and she had noticed, but it wasn't for any of the reasons she probably thought, or ones he could explain to her. It was just her direct question had brought back his dilemma of the other night. True friends didn't lust after friends. She was the closest friend he had, but it would never be complete. Not only because of the longing he felt every time he looked at her. It was because he probably would never confide in her fully, as she had pointed out tonight.

As he pulled off Logan's shirt to put on his own, he saw the scars in the mirror himself. He had been told they would fade over time, but never to oblivion. Injuries that deep just never went away. In the beginning he had almost been happy over that news. They would be his constant reminder, so he would never forget. But then as his dreams came, and his thoughts continued to haunt him, he realized he wouldn't need them as a reminder. Injuries that deep didn't go away emotionally either.

He was still lost in his own thoughts when the yelling broke into his consciousness. "I'm not letting someone else drive my car just so you can have your ego stroked," Rory's voice was angry and elevated.

"Hi, remember me? Your boyfriend? The one you should want to spend time with?" Logan was angry as well.

"Of all the idiotic…..listen, it's not about spending time with you, you know that. Tell me by now that you know that. Let me spell it out for you in case you're dense enough you couldn't have picked it up over the past months. I. Enjoy. Spending. Time. With. You. I blow off stuff and people just to be with you. What, you had to spend a couple nights without me when I was studying? My wanting to take my own car to your parents has nothing to do with that, it has to do with convenience. You want to make that big a deal out of spending time together, ride with me!"

Tristan couldn't hear what Logan said next, but it was low and furious. He planned on hiding out in the bathroom for the next couple hours until this blew over. But, he could hear Rory's incensed reply, even though she had dialled down the volume a little. "Logan, don't be such a hypocrite. It wasn't until a month ago I was even allowed to call you my boyfriend, before we could even define this as a relationship. You and I both know this has nothing to do with spending time together, it has to do with you proving something to Tristan, like how much under your spell your girlfriend is!"

He could ascertain from their argument that it was about driving to Logan's parents that afternoon. He had known Logan wanted Rory to ride with him, and let Tristan drive her car after she had refused to stay at his place. He also knew Rory didn't want anyone else to drive her car. He just hadn't expected it to erupt into this. Probably hadn't helped that Logan had come home to see the two them together with him in a towel. And, if it weren't him involved, it would almost be funny how she could be so close to the truth without even coming close on the most basic part of it. Logan did want to prove to Tristan that Rory was 'under his spell' as she put it, it just had nothing to do with his ego, it had to do with jealousy. Plain and simple.

Their words had softened since Rory's last outburst, and it took him a minute to realize that he was right next to the door, trying to listen to every word. But as he heard Rory's low laugh, and the sound of them kissing, he flushed and backed quickly away from the door. They had obviously smoothed things over fast. The fight may be over, but the making up obviously wasn't. And he didn't want to witness either.


	8. Torture of the same old kind

**Title**: What Lies Within Us 

Chp.8 Torture of the same old kind

**Disclaimer**: I don't own. Duh.

**Introduction:** I know I'm delusional….but Trory. Well, obviously not at first because that would be too easy, but I wanted to clarify. Basically set in the present, slightly altered to make things work. Oh, side note, and although this fic started before viewing of 'wedding bell blues', assume Rory and Logan got together in similar matter (they're just **not** having sex), and decided on some 'strings' eventually.

**Rating:** Pg-13 this chap.

**Author's note**: I hate reviews (I'm also a really bad liar). And just a note on reviews when they come, I don't mind even the bad ones. Constructive criticism is always a good thing. But I would just like to add, if you're upset by a certain plot point, make sure you actually read all parts in relation to it. (ie. I did NOT actually have Logan cheating on Rory). Sorry to blather.  
Sorry about long update time (seems as if I'm always apologizing for that), but I was on vacation and sort of away from a computer. If this seems a little rushed, I also apologize as I wrote it fast so it wouldn't be more than a week since I updated.

Okay, onto part 8.

* * *

"Next turn on the right." Those were the first words out of Logan's mouth in about an hour as they drive down the ritzy street that his parents lived on.

Rory glanced over at him quickly, knowing he was still disgruntled he was in the passenger's seat of his girlfriend's vehicle. She had been willing in the end to risk Logan being upset, and just have Tristan ride with her. But in the end it was Tristan who had smoothed it all out, positively insisting that Logan ride with her and let Tristan drive his car. It had taken some major swearing upon the bible that nothing would happen to his car, but eventually Logan had agreed to it. Rory knew she shouldn't be surprised that Tristan wanted to avoid hours alone in a car with her after that afternoon, and that was why he was so insistent that Logan ride with her.

She was already in her dress for the party; they all were changed, and were risking the wrinkles. After the 'discussion' she and Logan had that afternoon, and the half hour when she couldn't find where she had put her mother's Christmas present, they were running a little bit late and knew there would be no time to slip off and change once they had arrived. Her suitcases and packages of stuff were piled in the backseat, right next to Tristan's one solitary duffle bag for the ride to her place later. She had caught Logan looking at it earlier, a frustrated look on his face that she couldn't explain.

Tristan was driving behind them. She already knew he probably wanted to pass her about a million times by now, but he kept following along. Logan had already grumbled once about how slow she was driving; she would admit she wasn't the most aggressive of drivers, but it beat the INDY 500 style that Logan seemed to go at most of the time. She knew she had overreacted earlier about not letting Tristan drive her car, but it had been a pet peeve of hers since, well, Jess had crashed her old vehicle. Nobody got behind the wheel of her car but her.

She pulled into the rather extensive driveway of Logan's parent's house. He was looking over at her like he expected her to be shocked; in truth, nothing about luxury or privilege could shock her anymore. Her grandparents lived in his world, and their house wasn't exactly decrepit. She had done the fancy tour of Europe with her grandmother. His house, while impressive, was nothing in comparison, and she had been expecting it. At the same time, when she pulled into an empty space to park, she though peevishly she was surprised there weren't valets to park the cars for them. From the many vehicles around them, it appeared as though most of the Huntzberger's guests had already arrived.

Tristan had pulled in right next to them, and had already gotten out of the car as Rory slid out, partially unzipping her jacket so she could try and smooth her dress a little. This was her first time meeting Logan's parents, and she didn't want to look like she had slept in her attire. Satisfied that she looked acceptable, she zipped the jacket back up.

"Nervous?" Tristan raised an eyebrow at her attempts to straighten herself. His first words directly to her since earlier that afternoon. She decided if he was going to play that everything was normal between them, so would she.

"No," she replied, shaking her head in denial. And the truth was, she was no more nervous to meet Logan's parents than she had been to meet Dean's. The scenario was the same whether it was in a comfortable home in Stars Hollow or the mansion that lay before them. Of course there were those lingering butterflies she felt whenever people would be looking her over, but it was nothing she hadn't dealt with before.

Logan walked around the car to join them. "Ready?" he asked shortly, putting his arm around her waist. She nodded, and took his hand as they turned to go. Tristan followed behind.

They were greeted at the door by a maid who took all their jackets. Unlike at her grandmothers where maids went through weekly, Logan knew the woman, calling her by name. Rory smiled and murmured her thanks as she handed over her coat. She smoothed her dress with her hand one more time, grateful that it didn't look too badly. Christmas music was playing, and as they entered the main room she noticed that it was from musicians in the corner rather than a CD.

The house was full, but not crowded. Even so, Rory was amazed at how Logan managed to pick his parents out of all the people and lead her over to them. She watched Tristan hesitate, and then follow along. His parents were in conversation with an older couple whom she recognized as having met at her grandparents. She nodded politely to them as they approached.

"Mom, dad," Logan greeted them, kissing his mother on the cheek as the couple they had been talking too drifted off. "Nice to see you."

"Logan," his mother sounded genuinely delighted to see her son. As he pulled away from her, his father shook his hand. The famous Mitchum Huntsberger. Rory had to admit she was a little awed. But he seemed just like a normal person, kidding his son about his impeccable timing.

"Mom, dad, you remember Tristan DuGrey?" Logan motioned towards his friend who until this point had been standing back from the group of them, and now stepped forward. "He's starting at Yale next term as well."

"Hello Tristan," Logan's father spoke, nodding towards him. "It's nice to see you again. It's been a long time."

Tristan smiled at Logan's parents; he had been lucky with them. Mitchum was probably about ten times richer than anyone in the state, but he had never neglected Logan. In fact, they were probably too soft where their son was concerned. Despite being one of the most hard-headed businessmen, Mitchum couldn't deny his son anything. Logan had sunk his parent's yacht, and there hadn't even been major repercussions. As spoiled as Logan was, he could have turned out a lot worse.

"And this," Logan said, turning towards her and putting his arm around her, "Is Rory. My girlfriend." Words his parents hadn't heard him utter since his first crush in high school.

As she shook each of their hands, Tristan stepped away, knowing this was a private moment, and not wanting to intrude further. Rory was getting further indoctrinated into Logan's life, the way it should be. She was his serious, permanent girlfriend. Damn, but he needed a drink.

* * *

He had found an unoccupied seat in the living room, and was slowly nursing the scotch he had got from the bar. In truth he was more in the mood for a beer, but it wasn't something usually ordered at parties like this. He was a Dugrey, he had attended enough of them in his lifetime. He was tempted to down it in a single gulp, and keep going, but he knew drinking himself into oblivion wouldn't solve his problems, it would just dull the emotions for a little while.

He felt the couch give next to him, and looked over to see Logan sitting beside him. He just nodded, and took another sip of his drink. "Having fun?" Logan asked dryly, noticing the expression on Tristan's face.

Tristan gave a short laugh, "I didn't enjoy society parties in the old days Logan. The only reason I put up with them was there was usually some rich socialite willing to go have fun in an empty bedroom."

"There still are," Logan informed him, clapping him on the shoulder. "I can name three off hand I've seen that I'm sure would take little persuasion to take off for awhile."

Tristan just shook his head, and downed the rest of his drink. That wasn't his scene anymore, for so many reasons. Rory and her good opinion were just a secondary justification, he had made that decision for himself awhile ago. He had already been hit on by two girls this evening, and had firmly turned them down even knowing they were looking for that no-string fun he used to enjoy.

"Hey man, are you okay?" that was the question awkwardly asked by Logan. Jealousy and awkwardness between them aside, Tristan was still his friend, and he looked like shit right now.

"Just a bad day," Tristan explained with a half-smile. "Not a big deal." No need to mention the particulars. "Just needed a good stiff drink." he knew that was a sentiment Logan could appreciate.

Logan just nodded, accepting his words at face value. Tristan looked over to see him staring at someone in the crowd. When he followed his direction of gaze, he saw he was looking at Rory talking with two girls. "I got lucky with her," Logan made the offhand remark as he watched her laugh, and tuck her hair behind her ears.

Tristan would second that, but he just made a non-committal sound as Logan continued on, "I was a moron, wouldn't even let it really be dating, just some meaningless fun. Didn't realize she was someone you couldn't just fool around with. It took me seeing her with another guy to make me realize I couldn't stand the thought of her being with anyone besides me. Never thought it would happen, but it took jealousy to make me wise up."

It was at this point that Tristan began to wish desperately for another drink. He didn't know what had sparked Logan's confidential attitude, but he wasn't in the mood to hear about their great relationship. He knew Rory was amazing. And he knew one hell of a lot about jealousy. "She's great," was all he said, not wanting Logan to take it the wrong way, thinking Tristan wanted her for himself. He didn't know what had brought on this out of character gushing, but it couldn't have come at a worse time.

"My parents seem to love her," Logan continued. "Of course they're thrilled I'm bringing home someone to meet them, but I think they were scared of what kind of girl it would be."

Tristan wondered spitefully if Logan was doing this on purpose to torture him. He knew he wasn't, but this was probably just the last conversation that he wanted to be having right now with Logan. _Yes Logan, your girlfriend is too good for you, she's too good for most guys. Yes Logan, your girlfriend is wonderful and amazing. Yes, Logan every time she talks to me I want to take her in my arms but instead I have to watch her kiss you, see your hands slip below her waist…_

It was at that point that Rory walked up. She had run into some old acquaintances from high school and had stopped to chat. It was always weird running into people you had known peripherally in high school; hard to know whether you knew them well enough to stop, or just nod and walk on by. She smiled at Tristan and Logan as she walked towards them, uncomfortable as they both seemed to be staring at her. There was no place to sit, but when she motioned to go get a chair, Logan pulled her down on his lap. "Easier." was all he said by way of explanation, as he kissed her.

She avoided Tristan's gaze when she broke away from Logan, uncomfortable with him sitting just a foot away. "Having a good time?" she asked, forcing a smile. He looked good in a tux. Comfortable. But of course he was used to the life of penguin suits.

"A blast," she had no problems hearing the sarcasm in his voice as he replied to her rather inane question. She was a little startled at the bitterness in his voice, but he broke his gaze away from hers and fiddled with his empty glass.

As they sat in a rather uncomfortable silence, Rory still sitting on Logan's lap, she felt her hand drift to the necklace around her throat. Her Christmas gift from Logan. They had exchanged presents earlier in the day, as she and Tristan would be leaving right after the party. She hadn't known what to buy him. What does one buy for a rich boy who has pretty much everything? There wasn't even something he was sentimental about for her to build on. In the end, her gift had been impersonal and plain. When he had given her the necklace, she had been ashamed. It was beautiful, and probably cost about as much as her car. It wasn't the cost of his gift that made her feel so bad, it was that she couldn't even make his meaningful.

"Sorry to interrupt," she heard Logan's father walk up in front of them, "But I need to borrow Logan for a little while. Some social pleasantries that have to be taken care of, relatives to greet; I'll return him soon."

Rory blushed at the fact she was sitting on his son's lap, and got up quickly to let him go with his father. "I won't be long," he promised, giving her a quick kiss before she sat down in his seat. Leaving her with Tristan.

She felt uncertainty as to what to say. They had talked earlier, with Logan there, but that was necessity. The string of 'yes's and 'no's didn't really count. Nothing had really changed. It was just after this afternoon, it was hard to slip back into the easy conversation they had enjoyed before. She felt an awkwardness that hadn't been there before. But before she could decide what to say, Tristan blurted out, "I'm sorry about this afternoon."

She was taken aback as that wasn't what she expected at all. "You have nothing to be sorry for," she replied quietly, honestly. "It's your business, your life. Don't apologize for telling me to butt out."

He sighed. He was sorry for shutting her out, knowing that as her friend he should be able to disclose those parts of him, but knowing at the same time he wouldn't be able to. "At the very least, I'm sorry about the way I did it."

"You have nothing to apologize for," she repeated, shaking her head.

Tristan placed a hand on her arm. "Don't tell me that me this was all nothing. You've been uncomfortable around me all day. Sitting here, you don't even know what to say to me anymore. I don't want that Rory, not between us." Even if maybe it was for the best.

She wanted to deny that any awkwardness existed, but knew he would see right through it. "I don't want it either," she replied honestly. "It was just me being a little oversensitive and stupid. It won't happen again." And, she hoped it didn't. It did make it easier now; now that he had brought it all out in the open. "Just don't apologize," she added again. "You didn't do anything wrong."

When the silence between then seemed to stretch on again after her statement, despite promises to the contrary, she interjected, "So, how about them Yankees?"

Tristan smiled, "What are you talking about?"

She raised her hands, "Awkward silence, sports are neutral topic, and only team I've ever heard of are the Yankees. You do the math. And, that's football, right?"

He just laughed, and she smiled, knowing they would be okay. She liked when he laughed. He didn't do it often enough. It disrupted the serious, contemplative look he wore most of the time now. That afternoon in the library had been a favourite time of hers, with him completely relaxed around her, something he hadn't been since then. She wanted to see him happy more often. The thought came unbidden to her that she wanted to be the one to make him happy.

But just as she was about to contemplate that idea, his laughter died suddenly, and it was as if she could see his body tense. He was staring at a point past her shoulder, and she turned around to look and see what had brought about the abrupt change.

It was his parents. Or rather, she assumed the woman was his mother, but there was no mistaking the identity of Tristan's father. She watched as they greeted the Huntsberger's, making their apologies for arriving late. As the maid took their coats, she turned back to Tristan only to find he was getting to his feet.

"I can't stay," he told her shortly, when she grabbed his arm, stopping him from simply walking away. And because she knew, understood everything his father was to him now, he added, "I can't be in the same room with him. I don't want that scene, that embarrassment." And, that hurt, but he would never admit to that part.

"Don't let him dictate your life Tristan," she imparted quietly, grabbing hold of his hand. "You have just as much a right to be here as he does."

He shook his head, "It's not that. You've seen us, you know we won't be able to interact without a fight. And at the very least there will be all the gossip as to why we aren't speaking. I don't want to be the centre of attention anymore Rory. Let him have this world, it's not mine anymore."

She wished the world would realize what kind of person his father was, but it wasn't like Mr.Dugrey often got into shouting matches at parties or board meetings. Everyone always put their best face forward in public. It often masked the real person that lay beneath. "Allright," she said calmly, getting to her feet beside him. "We'll go."

He looked surprised. "Rory, you shouldn't just go, this party is important for you and Logan, I know that."

She gave him a disbelieving stare, "And what were you planning on doing, hiding outside until either your father left or I was ready to go? Be reasonable Tristan."

He shook his head, "Rory, think about it, that's not a good idea. I don't want this broadcast about, and Logan doesn't really know what's going on with my dad, and his parents certainly have no clue. They're not going to understand why you just had to take off. Have fun, drink eggnog, charm Logan's parents, and I'll go hide in an empty room until the party's done. Don't worry about me."

The look on her face was resolute, "Absolutely not. Tristan, I'm not going to ask you to be miserable just so I can stay at a party. I'm your ride, and more importantly, your friend. It doesn't work that way. Logan, he knows there are problems, you're at his place aren't you? As to what he tells his parents, I'll leave that up to him. He can weave a tale with the best of them, and he doesn't even have to let on it's about you and your parents at all. He's your friend, he won't mind."

Tristan had his doubts about that, not after Logan's semi-poetic rant earlier. Even if he didn't admit it out loud, he thought this night was important. Bringing Rory home, the first girl to really meet the parents, it was momentous for him. He wouldn't appreciate it being interrupted by anything related to Tristan, especially when he didn't know the extent of the problem. But he knew he couldn't stay, couldn't face his father, couldn't be the subject of gossip and innuendo all over again. He imagined the fatherly "concern" about Tristan being an embarrassment would be worse now that Tristan was here among his father's friends.

It was at that point that Logan came back to join them, and slipped his arm around Rory's waist. "Hey," he said softly, nuzzling her neck.

She turned in his arms, "Logan, Tristan and I are going to have to go."

Tristan couldn't miss the accusing glare Logan shot his way as he asked, "Why?"

She glanced at Tristan, not sure how much to say, so he cleared his throat and interjected. "My, uh, parents just got here. I can't be in the same room as my dad Logan." The words sounded lame even to his ears, but what else was he supposed to say? Get into the whole sordid history right then?

He knew Logan wanted to object, wanted to demand she stay there, suggest Tristan suck it up or go hide out for a while. But he could see Rory looking at Logan with her strangely guileless eyes, not expecting him to do anything but agree. After all, he was Tristan's friend. Life was never that simple, and certainly wasn't here, but she didn't know that. And, being not only a female, but also a sensitive one, she saw no reason Tristan should have to stay when he would be so uncomfortable. Tristan knew, even as he watched Logan grapple with wanting to place demands, he wasn't going to do anything but agree. And while he felt guilty, he wasn't about to stick around.

"I'll tell my parents you had an important call from your mother etc etc." Logan finally said to Rory. He looked over at Tristan, "I'm assuming this isn't something I can explain to my parents regarding your family situation?"

Tristan nodded, wondering if he was being overly sensitive about wanting to keep this all private. After all, most people knew he wasn't living at home anymore, but nobody knew the depth of the animosity between him and his father. He couldn't even talk about it with Logan, he wasn't comfortable with it being the newest gossip and scandal for the society crowd. So, he took the easy way out, and let the explanation of their leaving be an emergency in Rory's family.

"Thanks," he still had to watch Rory smile and kiss Logan gratefully. He turned his head, giving some semblance of privacy as she continued. "I'll call you soon. And, if I don't talk to you before, have a good Christmas."

"It will only be good if you're here," Logan murmured, kissing her again before letting her pull away. "I'll talk to you soon." And with her and Tristan being together, it wasn't a promise he was going to break.

She smiled, releasing his hands at the last possible moment and trailed after Tristan who started walking towards the door when he saw his father begin to circulate the room. Logan had to watch them walk off together, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop them without sounding like a heartless bastard, even though his instincts screamed that to keep her, he shouldn't let her go.


	9. The Many Names of Snow

**Title**: What Lies Within Us

Chp.9 The Many Names of Snow

**Disclaimer**: I don't own. Duh.

**Introduction:** I know I'm delusional….but Trory. Well, obviously not at first because that would be too easy, but I wanted to clarify. Basically set in the present, maybe like a year ahead, slightly altered to make things work. Oh, side note, and although this fic started before viewing of 'wedding bell blues', assume Rory and Logan got together in similar matter (they're just **not** having sex), and decided on some 'strings' eventually.

**Rating:** Pg-13 this chap.

**Author's note**: I hate reviews (I'm also a really bad liar). If I believe people are reading, it helps.

In case the chapter title makes no sense:

"The Eskimos had fifty-two names for snow because it was important to them: there ought to be as many for love." -Margaret Atwood

* * *

"Mom?" Rory called out for Lorelai as she turned the key and opened the door. Tristan followed behind her, carrying his lone bag, and half her stuff as she couldn't manage to carry it all in.

There was no answer, and the house was dark. Well, of course an errant lamp or two were still on as Lorelai could never remember to shut everything off before she left. Rory let her stuff drop to the floor by the door, and Tristan followed suit. As they wandered into the living room, Rory noticed some clean sheets and a blanket sitting on the couch. Apparently her mom had managed to remember to do laundry so Tristan would have some clean bedding.

"So," Tristan cleared his throat behind her. "This is home."

There was no condescension in his voice, and she turned around with a smile. "Yeah, home. Not exactly Logan's, but we like it. You should be honoured though, it's clean. A rare occurrence."

He laughed and tossed his bag on the couch. "I'm staying with two boys Rory. If it weren't for the cleaning service that they can afford to have come in once a week, the place would be horrific."

She just smiled, knowing their place could beat Logan's any day. "I'll give you the grand tour. It'll take about 2 minutes, but you might as well see everything."

It was an accurate statement. By the time she had shown him the whole upper floor and the kitchen about 30 seconds had passed. She hesitated as they paused in front of her room. It was always the same. Awkward when you showed a guy your bedroom. Even if you weren't offering sex, it still felt somewhat weird, and definitely not innocent. "This is my room," she tried to make her voice sound breezy as she gestured, sure it was no big deal to him.

Determined still not to make a big deal out of it, she turned away and headed back to the living room, with him following behind her. "I wonder where mom went?" she wondered, as she hastily kicked the bra that was sticking out back under the couch. Then, it came to her. The Christmas pageant. She didn't know how she could have forgotten.

"We have to go," she told Tristan, tossing his jacket to him. "I forgot. The Christmas pageant is on tonight. Didn't expect to be back in time, but since we left Logan's so early……"

"Ok," he replied, shrugging back into his jacket, mystified as to why some pageant would have her so worked up.

As they left her place, he noticed she didn't bother to lock the door, but chose not to say anything. It was a small town, not the big city. Things were different here. As he looked around though, he had to admit it was beautiful. Lights adorned all the trees down the street. He still couldn't believe he was here, in Stars Hollow with her. Without Logan. The whole way back he couldn't stem his guilt from making her leave the party early, but he couldn't have stayed. As bad as it looked for the two of them to take off after such a short time, it would have looked even worse when he and his father got into a verbal sparring match.

"See, Stars Hollow is big on town events," she was explaining to him as they walked. "We have more festivals than most cities combined. The Christmas pageant is another one of those things. Mom never misses this stuff."

He didn't comment as they continued on. He was still busy examining things as they went by. An honest to God old time ice cream shop was sitting beside a diner. The store called 'Dosie's' could probably fit into a corner of the grocery stores he used to frequent. Of course part of the point was his family didn't tend to frequent grocery stores, that was what the staff was for.

"I know," he heard Rory say the words resignedly beside him.

"What?" he asked, confused at her comment.

She refused to look at him. "I realize I live in Hicksville, USA. It's 'quaint' to say the least. I know it's not exciting. We have festivals, but I doubt the town has ever even considered a club. We make picnic lunches to bid on, hold town meetings that people actually go to, and have snowman-building contests."

He was still a little lost. It was if she thought he hated the place when they had only been here a couple minutes. "It seems nice," seemed the safest answer. "And trust me, if you think this is Hicksville USA you should visit some of the small places in the Midwest. That's Hicksville."

Rory didn't say anything, but gave a terse smile. She knew she was being a little crazy. It was just as he looked around it reminded her of the shocked and appalled look on Logan's face as he had viewed the town the first time he was here. She couldn't hold it against him, he was used to much more, but that didn't stop it from hurting a little when he looked around him with obvious condescension. He didn't mean anything by it, but his attitude was still there. He had almost seemed a little insulted he had to sleep on a couch. So what if they didn't have hundreds of guest rooms like his parents, did it really matter? But she knew she was being a little too touchy, even if she didn't want Tristan to feel the same way.

As they walked by Luke's, she noticed it was closed. As she glanced at her watch she noticed it was only seven. She smiled, knowing that Lorelai had obviously convinced him to go to the pageant with her. He wouldn't have closed the diner otherwise. As she had told her mother on the phone the other day, she truly believed Luke would have been in the Christmas pageant if he thought it was important to Lorelai. She loved how much he loved her mother.

They approached the center of the town square. The pageant was taking place in the gazebo, as it did every year. Usually this was so it could have the air of reality with the snow on the ground all around. Of course with the bare ground this year they might as well have had it at Miss Patty's. As they approached her mother and Luke, who were standing at the back of the crowd, she noticed that some of those participating in the pageant onstage were coughing up some white stuff.

She knew the second her mother noticed her. She squealed as Rory approached, smiling, and wrapped her daughter in a hug. "You made it!" she said, partially quieting her voice as those around her glared. Rory raised a questioning eyebrow at the people on stage, and her mother laughed. "They got a snow simulator machine to try and get a little realism. It sort of backfired."

Luke patted her awkwardly on the shoulder, and she had to restrain herself from laughing. He had been in their lives for how long, and dating her mother for a long time now, and he always seemed more unsure of how to act around her now than before. He had hugged her before, now it was usually a pat or punch on the shoulder. "Hi Luke," she told him with a smile, and forced a hug on him.

She saw Tristan hanging awkwardly behind, and grabbed his hand, bringing him into the group. She missed the look Lorelai shot at their intertwined hands as she said, "This is Tristan. Tristan, this is my mom." Lorelai had heard so much about him in high school, but had never met the famed boy she had termed 'Bible-boy'.

"Ms.Gilmore," Tristan cleared his throat, and stuck out his hand. She wondered what he had done wrong when Lorelai glared at him and refused to take his hand.

He stood there cluelessly until Rory leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Call her Lorelai."

As soon as he said her name instead of the proper address, she shook his hand, glancing over to her daughter as if to say _what the hell is he doing shaking my hand?_ He wasn't sure what the proper form of Gilmore address was, slapping hands maybe?

Rory smiled and turned to the man who was standing next to her mother. "This is Luke, my mom's….boyfriend." Her hesitation wasn't even noticeable, even though she still wasn't sure what to address him as to others. Her mother's 'boyfriend' seemed to simplistic a term for the place that Luke held in their lives. And, even now, when she knew the two of them were practically living together, it was all they acknowledged the relationship to be even though it was so much more.

Tristan sized up the man with the flannel under his coat, and the backwards baseball cap, who was looking protectively at Rory and looked like he could bench press a lot. This wasn't a guy who wanted to be called 'Luke' off the bat. Since Rory hadn't included his last name, he was forced into calling him "Sir" as he shook his hand. He could hear Lorelai snickering at that behind him, but it seemed to pacify Luke a little and wipe part of the frown off his face he had had on since Tristan had been introduced.

Rory felt part of her stomach unclench as Lorelai smiled, and even Luke seemed to warm a little to Tristan. She wasn't sure why she had been nervous about introducing him, but she couldn't deny the happiness she felt that Lorelai seemed to accept him, at least on first introduction. It beat the time she had 'officially' introduced Logan to them. Luke hadn't stopped glowering the whole time, and had gotten into a minor pissing-contest with Logan as they had shook hands. Lorelai's attitude had barely even warmed beyond 'frosty'. She knew they hated him since they had caught the two of them fooling around at her grandparents vow renewal, but that had been one awkward afternoon when Logan had been here. On retrospect maybe that was half the reason he had never come back; he knew he wasn't really wanted.

"So, Tristan," Lorelai began, as they blatantly ignored the pageant going on in front of them. "Military school and the army, huh?"

He nodded, and noticed Luke looked suitably impressed at the mention of the military. "I did a tour right out of high school."

He watched Lorelai narrow her eyes playfully, "So," she asked in a hushed whisper, "Ever kill anybody?"

Rory watched Tristan freeze at the question. She knew why Lorelai had asked it, sort of a joke as that was the question that everyone, kids primarily, asked of policemen and military, or anyone who carried a gun. When Tristan choked out an answer of "No," she suddenly knew he was lying. It was part of things she had never thought of before, never really wanted to think about before. Tristan, carrying a gun, with the possibility of taking a life or having his own taken. It was easy to forget that part of things when they weren't part of your world.

She didn't notice if Lorelai had picked up on the discomfort, but she hurried on, determined to not have this turn awkward. Turning their attention to the pageant, she asked her mother, "70's theme?" The costumes were reminiscent of the disco era.

Lorelai laughed as she nodded, "My idea of an adult-themed pageant didn't stick. I mean come on, there has to be an underbelly to Stars Hollow. I bet there are lots of people with leather and handcuffs to donate for costumes."

Rory was already blushing as Lorelai leaned over and added, "I would have donated mine and Luke's stuff, but they didn't ask."

"Mom!" Rory exclaimed, embarrassed, just as Luke said her name in shock as well. She never got tired of torturing him. But, she heard Tristan laugh beside her, and the sound made her turn to him and smile.

When she turned back to her mother, she noticed Lorelai watching her with an intent look on her face. She wasn't sure what it was about, but didn't have time to contemplate on it as her mother asked, "So, not that I'm disappointed you're here, but why? I thought you were at Logan's parents until late."

"Ended early," Rory lied smoothly, or at least what she thought was smoothly. She didn't want to get into it, knowing her mother would leave it alone until she got a full explanation otherwise, and she didn't want to air Tristan's family's dirty laundry for him. She knew Lorelai was looking at her through narrowed eyes, knowing she was lying, but she didn't say anything.

She knew her mother was itching to make a crack about Logan, she could read Lorelai that well. In the end, Rory wasn't sure if it was her own disapproving look or Tristan's presence that stopped her. "We're going back to Luke's for coffee after," was all Lorelai said, smiling up at the man himself.

Luke rolled his eyes, "Apparently I'm opening up just to serve the lot of you."

"Good business," Rory tried to keep a straight face as she nodded. "A couple cups of coffee are worth all the effort. It's not like we don't have a coffee maker at home or anything."

"Sacrilege," Lorelai admonished her. "What we make is not coffee, it is sludge, whose caffeine content is it's only redeeming value. What Luke has, that's coffee."

"Coffee addicts, the lot of them," Luke grumbled.

"Come on Luke," Lorelai said with a smile, "Maybe Tristan here can be talked into having a nice cup of Earl Grey with you. I mean, it hasn't happened yet, but maybe he'll be different. Then you won't be the odd one out among the coffee drinkers of the world."

"Sorry," Tristan replied to Luke, getting caught up in the spirit of their conversation, "But you may have to last another day on your own."

"I will outlive you all," Luke declared, and Tristan found himself laughing along with Rory and Lorelai. The feeling of belonging and camaraderie shook him for a moment. He caught himself snickering when a man in a beard in front of them turned around and 'shushed' them. Of course the larger woman beside him turned around and gave him a rather lascivious look, which creeped him out a little. A blonde woman with a tall skinny man had turned around to stare at them as well.

"And, it's out," Lorelai said under her breath, and Tristan felt a little confused. She explained, nodding to the women around them, "Biggest gossips in the world. You should hear the stories they'll have about you by tomorrow. They can ferret anything out."

"I should have worn my uniform to really send them into a frenzy," Tristan commented, earning him a smile from Lorelai.

Rory smiled happily at the exchange between her mother and Tristan. Up on stage, apparently recovered from the show machine's failure, Kirk was doing what could very loosely be termed dancing to a version of Good King Wenceslas set to disco, and she had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing aloud. "I did the costumes," Lorelai told them, pointing to Kirk's bell-bottoms and tie-died shirt. Apparently his 'crown' as the title king was a bandana wrapped around his head.

Rory laughed at her mother, "It's not like it would have require much design. That whole outfit could have come straight out of your closet." Lorelai stuck her tongue out at her daughter.

It was at that point Lorelai froze, and turned to Luke, resting her hand on his forearm and smiling up at him. "I can smell it," she told him obscurely, kissing him gently on the lips.

Tristan had no idea what she was talking about, no idea what she was smelling that had her so excited. He sniffed, noticing it still just smelled like winter to him. He looked over at Rory, but she didn't seem to think there was anything out of the ordinary about her mother's statement. He got the answer to his question a moment later when flakes began to fall from the sky, despite the forecast for a dry Christmas season.

Rory smiled as her mother wrapped her arms around Luke, and leaned her head against his shoulder. Growing up with her, she knew how much Lorelai loved snow. Watching her with Luke this past year, she knew how much Lorelai had come to associate it with their relationship. She had seen the ice rink, she knew who had ploughed out her mother when there was the heavy snow-fall. As she watched them together, she was truly happy for them. It was sappy of her, but she felt that this was love in its greatest form. She wanted it to work for them so badly she ached for it. Luke, he was her mother's happiness. And she loved him too. A little embarrassed, she wiped a tear away as she watched them together, oblivious to everyone but the two of them.

Tristan wasn't watching Lorelai and Luke together, he couldn't take his eyes of Rory as she watched the two of them. He saw the dreamy look on her face, the sweet smile, the utter happiness. And as he watched the solitary tear slide down her cheek, even without fully understanding what caused it, he wanted to kiss it away. She turned to him, and when she caught him staring at her, she blushed a little.

A single flake had fallen and landed on her cheek, and without realizing what he was doing, he reached over and brushed it away gently. Slightly startled, she looked up at him surprise, and he told her a little awkwardly, "Just some snow." But in that moment, as he touched her in the midst of the falling snow, the world seemed beautiful and everything seemed possible, even a future with her. He didn't want to move as he was loathe to break the moment.

Rory didn't say anything, just fought the urge to raise her hand to the spot on her face where Tristan had touched her. It was as if at that moment she was seeing him in a way that she hadn't really considered consciously before. As a man, not just a friend. As someone whose touch she craved. Rocked by the thoughts of Tristan she had never considered before, she couldn't do more than stare wordlessly up at him.


	10. Meeting the 'Parents'

**Title**: What Lies Within Us

Chp.10 Meeting The "Parents"

**Disclaimer**: I don't own. Duh.

**Introduction:** I know I'm delusional….but Trory. Well, obviously not at first because that would be too easy, but I wanted to clarify. Basically set in the present, maybe like a year ahead, slightly altered to make things work. Oh, side note, and although this fic started before viewing of 'wedding bell blues', assume Rory and Logan got together in similar matter (they're just **not** having sex), and decided on some 'strings' eventually.

**Rating:** Pg-13 this chap.

**Author's note**: I hate reviews (I'm also a really bad liar). If I believe people are reading, it helps.

Oh and yes, last chapter was a little sappy. Didn't quite mean to make it so much so.

* * *

A crash in the next room cut into Rory's sleep as she was trying to catch up on the days of sleep she had missed during finals. Groaning, and not really caring at that point if a burglar was trying to get in, she rolled over and covered her head with her pillow. Not consciously awake yet, her mind drifted back to the dream she had been interrupted from. She and Tristan were making out in front of a fireplace similar to the one that was in her grandparents place, his hand slipping under her shirt, finished mugs of coffee beside them…..

_Crash!_

The noise was louder this time, and finally completely intruded into her consciousness. Fully awake now, the dream became even less than a memory. One of those things that even if you tried to remember, would slip away with the effort. She opened her eyes, not wanting to move. The clock on her bedside table said 6:30 AM. With other muffled noises in the kitchen, she resigned herself to being awake, and groaning sat up in her bed.

Remembering there were two men in the house now, she pulled on a robe over her SpongeBob pajamas, and slipped on her bunny slippers to go venturing out and see what the problem was. Yawning widely, she opened the door to her bedroom and slipped out into the kitchen, nearly tripping in her sleepy state.

Tristan sat at the kitchen table, wearing a sweatshirt soaked in sweat, and sweatpants. He glanced up apologetically as she came out. "I tried not to wake you," he whispered, not that Lorelai would have heard them talking from upstairs. "I just came back from my run, and needed something to eat. But see, when I opened a kitchen cupboard,…….you know the place that normally stores food or food-related items………a pile of shoes sort of fell out.

He watched as Rory seemed to take his explanation in stride. Yawning again, she answered, "Yeah, Mom probably ran out of room when she was cleaning for you to come and stuck them there. She does that sometimes."

"So, I'm taking it as there's no food for any sort of breakfast?" he asked, his hopes dashed of at least a piece of toast.

She shrugged, and dragged herself into a seat at the table beside him. "Luke's is for breakfast. But I imagine if you scrounge around the fridge you might be able to find some pop-tarts or leftover Chinese."

What pop-tarts would be doing in the fridge, he didn't even want to know, but they were there, shoved in the vegetable crisper when he got up to look for them. He grabbed one, and popped it in the toaster.

"Do you always get up this early?" Rory asked with a yawn, "Or did you just decide to be insane today?"

"For the past 4 years," he replied, leaning against the counter as he waited for the pop tart in the toaster.

She just nodded, and let her head rest on her arms on the table. "You can go back to bed you know," he suggested when she didn't rise back up.

"Once I'm up, can't go back to sleep," her voice was muffled by her arms, "of course doesn't stop me from being tired, but I won't be able to go back to sleep. Besides, might as well keep you company. Not like there's a ton of entertainment at 6:30 in the morning, and you've probably already ran your 10 miles."

"Five," he qualified. "And, I don't think you'll be great company when you fall asleep at the table."

Still not lifting her head, she waved her arm. "Minor point."

"It's not like I'm the only one up," he pointed out. "Luke was leaving to open his diner at the same time I was going for my run."

"Crazy, the lot of you." She added.

Luke had spent the night last night. It had been the first time he ever had with Rory home. Actually one of the few times he had slept there at all. He and Lorelai usually stayed over at his place. Rory supposed it was because she was home. It had been a little awkward, but not much. Of course when Lorelai had suggested going to bed, she had wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at Luke in front of them; Rory hadn't knew the man was capable of turning that shade of red. While she liked Luke, and knew the two of them were together in every way possible, she was glad her room was on the bottom floor as she didn't want to have to hear her mother's sex life.

"I can't believe it's Christmas Eve," she told him, finally pulling herself into a fully seated position. "I just wrote a final yesterday for crying out loud. Twenty four hours is not enough time to get into the Christmas spirit."

He didn't say anything, not really in the Christmas spirit even though he hadn't spent the better part of the last month writing finals. He remembered Christmas as a kid, all excited and thrilled every time it hit the month of December. Christmas pageants at school, and presents were always given in abundance by his parents as they excelled at monetary displays of affection. But then he grew up, and the magic and wonder was lost. In high school he spent the holidays skiing with friends. For the past couple years he hadn't even done anything; the extent of his celebration last year had been watching the Christmas day NBA basketball games on a television with some other guys who were overseas as well.

Better not to think about that.

He turned when the noise on the toaster went, signalling the readiness of his pop tart. He slipped it out, and put it on a plate, and went to sit back at the table with Rory.

"Did you get all your shopping done?" he asked, sliding into his chair.

She nodded, "Yes. Well, mostly. Had to do most of it at the end of November. Not as exciting; I missed the excessive crowds, lack of parking and screaming kids at the mall." She usually enjoyed Christmas shopping, but it was hard to come up with meaningful gifts when you were doing it a month ahead of time with time constraints and on a budget.

She yawned again as she watched him bite into his pop-tart, "I do have one more thing to pick up, but I can do it here in town. I was going to forget it as it's already Christmas Eve, but since I'm up so early I might as well be productive. I'm thinking a stop at Luke's sounds like a good idea, and then I'll finish up shopping. You interested in coming?"

He nodded. Normally shopping sounded as much fun as a trip to the dentist's, but there was little else to do. And, it would be with her. "Sure," was all he said.

"I can give you a tour of the town," she added, "Of course you saw a large percentage of it walking back from Luke's last night, but we can see about the three streets we missed. It will be very exciting."

He laughed. "I'm sure it will be."

Last night had been one of the most enjoyable nights he'd had in a long time. As promised, Luke had opened up the diner for the four of them to have some donuts and coffee. He didn't think he had ever smiled or laughed that much. It was easy to fit in with the three of them; he had enjoyed the feeling of belonging however premature and deluded it may be. He had heard some scary things about Lorelai from Logan, but he couldn't reconcile the Lorelai from last night with the 'dragon lady' Logan had warned him about. Of course he had gathered in the past while that Lorelai wasn't too fond of Logan, and that probably influenced things. And after meeting Luke, he wouldn't have wanted to meet that man while kissing Rory.

He had been out of his parents house long enough that he was far from the world of privilege he had used to belong to, but it hadn't stopped the errant thought that 'if only his father could see him now' last night. He was sitting in a diner, eating donuts with a man who wore a backwards baseball cap and flannel, and two women who probably hadn't stopped talking the entire time. And then they had played some "hockey" on the counter with some of the stale donuts. It had been ridiculous. It had been juvenile. It had been completely insane.

It had been the most fun he had had in his life.

Even when Lorelai had decided to give inanimate objects personalities (for example the salt and pepper shaker had become a bickering married couple) he had enjoyed the whole thing. He was self-aware enough to know that he had started out the night, and most of the past years, sober for most of it. A GI wasn't supposed to laugh. But by the end of the night he had been snickering along with them.

A couple times he had caught Rory looking at him, but he didn't know how to decipher what she was thinking. It had started at the pageant when he had wiped the snow from her face. A crazy, momentary impulse he shouldn't have given in to. Initially he had been worried she would notice something amiss with it, think he was hitting on her, but she hadn't seemed to think anything of it. But he had caught her watching him more closely the whole evening, and wasn't sure what to think about it. Once, when he was laughing aloud, he had caught her staring intently at him, and it had confused him. When she realized he noticed her looking, all she had done was blush and say quietly, "You don't laugh enough." Had surprised him beyond belief.

Now, she was lugging herself to her feet. "I'll shower and get ready to go." And, as she yawned widely again, "Maybe an ice cold shower will help perk me up."

The way she was looking right now he didn't think even that would do it, but all he said was, "Maybe." And tried valiantly not the think of her in the shower.

* * *

The door jingled as they entered Luke's. Rory still managed to be surprised at all the people who were willingly up this early; the place was packed. They manoeuvred their way to the counter, the only place where there were seats available.

Luke walked up to them, obviously surprised to see Rory there, but he didn't say anything. "Coffee I assume?" he asked dryly, grabbing the pot from the warmer behind him.

"Just hook it up to my veins," she uttered dramatically, holding out her wrists. Luke just shook his head and poured her a cup. And Tristan's nod, he poured a cup for him as well.

Tristan tried not to stare, but he was enthralled with her taking that first sip of coffee. As she sipped the warm liquid, she closed her eyes, and licked her lips, while letting out what sounded suspiciously like a moan. As hard as he tried, he couldn't stop thinking that the way she reacted to coffee was the way that most women responded to sex……yeah, he really didn't want to think about that.

He was broke out of his reverie when Luke tossed a menu on the counter in front of him. He looked up guiltily, worried the man could guess the direction of his thoughts. He actually breathed a sigh of relief that Luke's expression didn't seem to get any stormier. Of course it probably helped at the moment that he wasn't standing up. He opened the menu, but Rory was already rattling off her order, and then turned to look at him expectantly. "Cheese omelette and toast?" he asked, assuming those were safe orders, and Luke just nodded and wrote it down.

When Luke left them, Rory swivelled her stool to face him and smiled. "Is it not the best coffee you've ever tasted?" she asked as she took another sip, and he was almost disappointed she didn't do the moaning thing again.

"Sure," he replied. It was good coffee, but he wasn't exactly a connoisseur. He had gotten used to some pretty bad coffee, usually not more than some instant coffee mix mixed with warm water.

As they sat at the counter, he could pick up snippets of the conversations behind him.

"….Logan?..."

"No….heard….Patty….fight Dean."

"Hoity-toity family…."

"Heard…soldier…."

"Nummy, man in uniform….."

It was hard not to turn around and find out who all the people were talking about him and her, but he managed. He felt himself blushing a little at the last comment.

Rory smiled, obviously having heard the comments as well. She laughed a little, patted his arm, and turned around. Surprised, he followed suit. At that point he realized it wasn't just two women talking about him, it was a whole group of people.

"Merry Christmas everyone," Rory said brightly. The group included the larger women from the night before, now dressed in another extravagant silk outfit, and the woman with her bean pole friend. There were others now too, many eyeing him suspiciously.

He felt Rory place her hand on his arm. "This is Tristan, an old friend of mine. He's starting at Yale next term, and spending the holidays with us. He's also a friend of Logan's. He was in the military out of high school, and now wants to go to university. He's a very nice guy, and will be here for the holidays." He wasn't sure how to react to her announcements, so he just gave a little smile and waved at the group. A little weird having his whole personal agenda aired out like that.

Satisfied, she turned back around, and as he followed she said, "That should sate their curiosity for awhile."

When he heard the conversation start up again, and his name mentioned several times, he just smiled and sipped his coffee as she shook her head frustratedly, and gave him an apologetic look.

As Luke popped their orders down in front of them, he watched Rory smile at the man before digging in to her pancakes. He had to say that the food smelled really good. Of course all he had on his stomach was a pop-tart, so the tell-tale rumble of hunger in his stomach probably could have been evoked from even the most disgusting food. It was as he took his first bite of his omelette that the diner door dinged as it opened again. Being with his back to the door, he didn't bother to turn around, but he did notice a bit of a hush that fell across the diner.

He watched Rory look back, and when she startled a little, he was forced to turn and look as well. Standing at the doorway was a tall boy with floppy brown hair. Even with the slight stubble on his cheeks now, he still didn't seem more than a boy. Tristan could remember that face, he's tortured the guy enough back when he went to Chilton. Dean, her old boyfriend. The boy seemed to have stopped dead in his tracks, not sure whether to leave or continue on to the counter. And that had been just at the sight of Rory. When he saw Tristan, his look got darker, but he walked up to the counter, probably mostly as a manner of pride. But he did stop as far as he could from the two of them. Even though he and Rory were broken up, he had hated Tristan in the past, and probably hadn't forgot him.

Tristan watched Rory swallow uncomfortably as Dean placed his order for six coffees, letting Luke know it was "for Tom and the guys". She didn't touch her plate the whole time he was standing there. Which, by the time Luke was done filling up 6 coffee cups in between orders, was a long time. Tristan noticed the way they studiously didn't look at each other, even when Dean had nowhere to look but straight ahead.

Luke handed him the six cups in a cardboard tray, and Dean turned to go. He hesitated momentarily when he inadvertently looked right at Rory, and almost made a motion to come over, but he continued on to the exit without saying a word. The door jingled again on the way out, and conversation partially resumed, now at a larger level. Obviously everyone knew there was some tension there, and the whole exchange just fuelled the massive amounts of gossip.

Rory still seemed tense as she just kept staring at her pancakes without touching them. Tristan wasn't sure what else to say, so he just asked, "Must have been a tough break-up."

He words seemed to shock Rory out of the reverie sheappeared to be in. She picked up her fork again, and refused to look at him. He was a little surprised when she gave a rather terse response of, "I'd rather not talk about it."

It was very tempting to throw back her speech to him before about friendship, but that seemed a little hypocritical. So he said nothing, simply sipped at his coffee and let her be, even though he wanted to be her confidante. It didn't help that she looked absolutely miserable.

Rory was picking half-heartedly at her pancakes now. It had been hard to see Dean. Since she lived at Yale, it was rare to run in to him even when she was home, but sometimes it was unavoidable. Like today. And every time it was uncomfortable. They couldn't even do the civil 'hellos' anymore, they just tended to pretend the other didn't exist. It probably hadn't made it any better when he saw her with Tristan today, even if he didn't know they weren't dating. To break up with her because he felt he 'wasn't good enough', and then see her sitting there in his town with someone he still considered to be part of society crowd. Dejectedly, she took a big sip of her coffee, wishing it all wouldn't be this hard. Dean had been her first love, although he had also been her biggest mistake, and she hated wanting to cross the street ever time she saw him.

She felt bad snapping at Tristan, but this all wasn't something she could share with him. "So, the name of the store I want to go to is called the Cat Club…." She began, trying to pretend the whole exchange hadn't happened.

* * *

It was a couple hours later when they were wandering aimlessly down main street, her purchases clutched in her hand. Of course they hadn't just stopped in one shop, and it had taken a long time as she seemed to know every person in the town, and they had stopped to chat, sizing Tristan up as if he were trying to pass some crucial test.

"You know," he said thoughtfully as some weird guy named Kirk had just left them, "It's got to be pretty intimidating when you bring a boyfriend home. He doesn't just have to "meet the parents', he has to meet the town."

"Well, if it helps, they all seem to like you so far," she told him, then blushed at her words. He wasn't a boyfriend she had brought home. Just a friend. But he didn't seem to notice anything about her comment.

But it had been fun hanging around with him. It helped that he seemed tolerant of all the eccentric characters, and happy to be there, not bored out of his mind. Well, except at the Cat Club, but no guy would be stimulated at the Cat Club. She was barely stimulated at the Cat Club. It had been more to buy a 'gag' type gift for her mother, but she had pretended to be serious about buying an apron so as to not offend the little old woman who had been running the establishment for years.

It had started snowing again, and Rory stuck out her tongue to catch a flake, a habit she had never broken. She blushed and laughed a little as Tristan caught her doing it. "Child-like, I know," she shrugged her shoulders unapologetically.

When she gave a sudden shiver, Tristan asked her, "Are you cold?"

She shrugged, "Not really, but I think the toque and scarf might have been a good idea." She watched in horror as he started to shrug out of his jacket to give to her, which would leave him in nothing but a shirt. "Don't be crazy, you want to literally freeze just so I can ward off a slight chill? That's ludicrous, put your jacket back on."

He hesitated, but seeing she was serious, zipped up his coat again. She had a passing giddy thought that if this were a movie this would be the point where one of them made a comment about body heat, and then he would put an arm around her, just to keep her warm, and things would take off from there.

When her cell phone rang, she was startled and felt a little guilty at her thoughts, especially when she noticed Logan's name in her call display.

"Hi Logan," she answered as she flipped open her phone, and noticed Tristan step a discreet distance away to give her some privacy.

Tristan wandered a couple steps away, and pretended to be examining something in a store window. He didn't really want to have to listen to the conversation, to the sweet nothings that couple liked to gush about over the telephone. Of course Rory and Logan weren't the 'sweet nothings' type, but it still wouldn't be fun to listen to, and feel like an awkward third wheel at that point even though he was the one physically here instead of Logan.

It seemed a long time before he felt her hand tap his shoulder, and he turned around to face her. "Logan said hi," she told him with a smile, but he could see her expression was a little strained. Obviously not just sweet nothings had been exchanged. Probably an argument about him in some way, shape or form, even if Rory didn't realize that was the cause. But he wasn't going to pry. This had been the second time Logan had called since they had left last night. Tristan didn't know what he expected to find out when he called, the two of them in bed together at her mothers house, with her still answering her phone?

"Want to head back to your place? Warm up?" was all he asked as she shivered again.

She nodded, and they turned in the direction of the Gilmore house. His initial inclination was to put his arm around her, but knew that if he did that it wouldn't just be for warmth, no matter what excuse he may give. So, he just stuck his hands in his pockets to go.

It didn't escape his notice as she hesitated, then turned off her cell phone before sticking it back into her purse.


	11. What Lies Within Us

**Title**: What Lies Within Us

Chp. 11 What Lies Within Us (I know they're the same, it's the chap that's the stories namesake)

**Disclaimer**: I don't own. Duh.

**Introduction:** I know I'm delusional….but Trory. Well, obviously not at first because that would be too easy, but I wanted to clarify. Basically set in the present, maybe like a year ahead, slightly altered to make things work. Oh, side note, and although this fic started before viewing of 'wedding bell blues', assume Rory and Logan got together in similar matter (they're just **not** having sex), and decided on some 'strings' eventually. Stuff is slightly diff, see rest of fic.

**Rating:** Pg-13 this chap.

**Author's note**: I hate reviews (I'm also a really bad liar). I apologize for the week and a half it took me to update. Was a _little_ busy. And, from some rather pointed reviews I got to update NOW, I decided I better write a chapter when I got home today. So, how about an extra long chapter as a result? And, if you say nice things, I may put out another chapter really really soon. Well, that's a bit of a lie, as I may do it anyway due to some extra time I have this weekend, but nice things are always appreciated.

This was written pretty fast. And, for those of you who want things to pick up speed between them, this is all intentional. I have a plan, and I hope you won't be disappointed in the end. Cause I mean really, if I had them groping each other on the couch right now, it wouldn't seem quite right would it? (even if would be enjoyable)

Damn that was a long a/n.

* * *

Rory sat beneath the covers in her bed, reading The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini that she had picked up before finals started, but had never really had time to read. She knew logically she should be sleeping, it was late, but books had always been her weak spot. It was never enough just to read one chapter; she had to finish the whole thing.

She looked up when her door opened. She watched as Lorelai did a "stealthy" slip into the room. "Mom!' she said, surprised. "What are you doing up?"

Her mother shrugged, "Couldn't sleep. Came down for some water and saw you were up. Luke's still fast asleep. For someone who gets up so early, he sure sleeps like the dead. Contemplated waking him up, but he's not the late night type. Unless it's for nookie." Rory grimaced, both at the thought of her mother and Luke having sex and her mother's awful choice of a euphemistic word.

Rory sincerely hoped Tristan had been fast asleep when her mom came down. Lorelai was clad in her Powderpuff girls pyjamas; Rory still wasn't sure what had possessed her to buy them. She supposed as embarrassing as they were, they beat Lorelai coming downstairs in some form of lingerie.

"So……." Lorelai began, flopping down on the bed beside Rory. "I decided we should have a little chat. We really haven't gotten time to talk since you've been here. By product of two guys being in the house with us."

"Anything specific you want to bring up?" Rory had long since closed her book and set it aside, knowing if Lorelai wanted to talk there would be nothing stopping her. It had been a long time though since they had a face to face conversation, with her being busy at school and her mother at the inn.

Lorelai shrugged, a faux innocent look on her face, "I dunno…..why don't you fill me in a little on your life lately?"

Rory didn't bother to ask her mother to be more specific. She knew what she wanted to talk about. The love-life aspect of Rory's life. Primarily, Logan, who wasn't here, after being invited and who was after all her boyfriend. "Life has been good," she kept it vague, not really wanting to talk about all of it with Logan, even with her mother.

Lorelai gave an exasperated sigh, "Rory….."

"Fine, fine," Rory gave in. "Things have been….good….with Logan and I. That's not why he didn't come down for Christmas. He just wanted to spend the holidays with his family." And that much was true, but he hadn't been coming down anyway. "He said he'd probably come for at least New Year's though." Her words sounded defensive even to her own ears. It seemed she spent a lot of time defending him to her mother, who she knew didn't like him. She couldn't confide their problems to her mother, who would simply take them as a reason to drop Logan lower in her estimation.

It seemed like she had waited so long from when they first started casually dating to when he finally admitted he wanted more. At the time she had thought that was what she wanted too. And now, he was the most attentive and committed he had ever been. He took her to meet his parents, he wanted to spend lots of time with her, and he called her often. And the funny thing was, it left her wanting more. When she had gotten home from shopping with Tristan she had pulled her phone from her purse and looked at it for a moment, feeling guilty when she didn't have the urge to turn it back on.

"That's good," Lorelai replied in an encouraging tone that Rory knew was false. "It's just that, well, our couch is now taken." Hoping against hope her daughter wouldn't suggest Logan staying in her room with her, not wanting things to have gone that far.

Although her pointed comment had been to try and get Rory to talk about Tristan, the one inhabiting the couch, Rory didn't pick up on it and simply answered dryly, "There are inns in town Mom, one you happen to own in fact." And Logan could afford it.

Lorelai just nodded, not saying anything else about Logan even as much as she wanted to. In fact, he had become a subject where she and her daughter had an unspoken agreement to 'agree to disagree'. Rory hadn't wanted to hear any criticism about him, even early in their relationship, and since she realized her mother didn't like him took most comments as such. She wished her daughter would open up more about Logan to her, as she knew Rory wasn't truly happy, not the way she could be. She tried to hide her reservations about the boy, but she knew that was part of the reason Rory didn't like to talk about Logan with her. And it hurt.

"So," Lorelai broached the subject carefully, "Not that I haven't enjoyed having him here, as he does make an excellent goalie for donut hockey, but why exactly is Tristan here?" _And doesn't Logan mind?_ She wanted to ask.

Rory hesitated, unsure as to how much was okay to share with her mother. They weren't her secrets to give. "The same reason he's staying at Logan's for a little while," she finally said, "Some problems with his father at home."

Lorelai wasn't sure how to enter into what she wanted to ask. She had observed the two of them over the past little while, interacting with each other. And she wanted to believe this was just friendship, believe they were being purely platonic, but she saw the way Tristan looked at her daughter when she wasn't paying attention, the way Rory lit up at a simple smile from him, and she knew; knew this was more than that.

It was the end of Christmas Eve, the four of them having spent it together at the Gilmore house. It was a tradition she and Rory had. Every Christmas Eve was spent watching holiday movies with milk, cookies and lots of other junk food known only to them, usually with a holiday theme. Of course that was a habit of theirs any time of the year, but Christmas Eve was the only time with white cotton candy to symbolize snow, and the only time they dug out their DVD of Charlie Brown's Christmas and tried to imitate the humming at the end. Presents always came the next day, still a tradition from when the illusion of Santa Claus had still existed for Rory, even though by age 5 she had pretty much figured it out.

It was little things, nothing special, but she knew her daughter well. Had seen her interact with boyfriends, at least past boyfriends. And as Lorelai had sat on the couch with Luke, her head resting on his shoulder, she had gotten to see the interaction between Rory and Tristan sitting on the floor. Touching and comments neither seemed to be fully aware of the implications of, but there none the less. She liked Tristan, even if she would admit it was half because she didn't like Logan, but she didn't want it to come about this way if they were going to get together. Rory was in a relationship with some who was _not_ Tristan. Lorelai didn't want it to be a pattern; she didn't want him to be another like Jess.

This wasn't like when Rory was younger, she wouldn't welcome the same level of interference, and making her opinions and questions known wasn't worth pushing her daughter away, but she wanted to get this out somewhat in the open. Rory, for all the extra years now, could still be cluelessly naïve about this sort of thing. Lorelai had no doubt that Logan was not happy with Tristan being here instead of him, despite their friendship. Treading carefully, all she began with was, "So, it's been nice having Tristan here though."

Rory smiled and nodded. She had enjoyed having him here. Tristan had fit in so much better than she could have ever imagined. With the town, with Luke, with her mother.

With her.

"It has been nice," was all she put into words, and felt obligated to add on, in case it seemed she was too happy about it, "I just hated the thought of him there on campus, by himself, all alone for the holidays." She squelched the traitorous thoughts she was having about his being a better "fit" in all respects than Logan.

If Lorelai noticed her defensiveness over the invite, she left it alone. "Different from the boy you knew in high school huh?" She was subtly trying to get Rory to talk about him.

Rory actually took the time to ponder that for a moment before she answered. "He has changed," she admitted, "But in some ways he's still elementally the same." It was hard to describe the Tristan she knew now. It wasn't like he had morphed into some other person. It was more he had matured, gained layers; he wasn't as superficial as he had been before. "I don't even think he's mocked me once by calling me Mary," she added thoughtfully.

She wanted to confide in her mother about Tristan, about how much she hated the distance they kept between them, especially since she had seen his scars. She wanted to ask Lorelai's opinion, get her reassurance. But Tristan's past, his secrets, weren't hers to share even if she wanted to. But she wanted to talk to Lorelai about it, because she didn't know how to make Tristan feel like he really had a friend, someone to trust, and she wanted that more than anything. But she kept quiet, knowing that spreading all his stuff wasn't her place.

Lorelai dropped the subject, realizing nothing she said or did was going to induce Rory to talk tonight. Sighing, she slipped her arm around her daughter and leaned back against the pillows of the bed. She knew no matter how good their relationship, Rory was her own person and wouldn't share everything. She just wanted it be like she was younger and Lorelai could guide her, make the right decisions for her. Not have her be hurt. Because if everything she was noticing was true, there would be no completely happy ending for everyone.

* * *

It was hours later when Rory woke, a crick in her neck. As she glanced over at her clock, she saw it was three in the morning. Lorelai was still sitting beside her, fast asleep, her arm still wrapped around Rory. They had fallen asleep like that in the sitting position, and Rory's back was cramping.

Carefully, she slipped from the bed taking care not to wake her mother. She adjusted the covers better around Lorelai who let out a rather indelicate snore, but settled back into a deep sleep. Rory stretched as best she could, and decided to head out into the kitchen as she was mostly awake now, and Lorelai had invaded most of her bed.

She slipped carefully from her room, expecting the house to be pitch black. But, when she could see the room in front of her she realized there was a light coming from the living room. The lights on the Christmas tree were plugged in. She swore softly, assuming Lorelai had turned them on, and it must be making it hard for Tristan to sleep. Softly, she tiptoed into the living room to turn them off, only to find Tristan sitting wide awake on the couch, staring at the tree.

She hesitated in the doorway, and watched him for a moment. He wasn't doing anything, except just sitting there staring at the Christmas tree. It wasn't spectacular. They had decorated it the night before. All the ornaments were on. Half the tree had been meticulously hung with tinsel, and the rest just had some dumped on when they had gotten sick of the effort. The crowning effort, as always, was an angel Rory had made in second grade. Every year Rory begged her mother to get something different, but Lorelai refused to give up the cardboard tree-topper, no matter how much it clashed with everything else.

"It's not even five yet," she chided softly, walking into the room. Surprised at anyone being up, his head swung towards her.

"Couldn't sleep," he replied shortly, shrugging his shoulders. As it was a cold night, he had the blanket from his makeshift bed on the couch wrapped around him as he sat there. Rory noticed he looked a little pale and drawn.

She walked further into the room, noticing the cup of coffee beside him. The cookies and milk for "Santa" had been gone from the kitchen table, but she had assumed Lorelai had consumed them earlier. "Have you slept at all?" she asked, shocked.

He looked a little embarrassed, but offered no explanation as he shook his head. "Not really."

Rory simply accepted his words and walked over to sit down. She hesitated slightly, but sat down next to him on the couch but not availing herself of his blanket. He didn't say anything, just seemed to be staring at the tree again. In particular, the photo ornament of her and Lorelai from when they were in Germany. "It's a beautiful tree," was all he finally commented.

She wanted to ask him exactly how much eggnog he'd had to drink that night, but didn't. "We like it anyway," was all she said, cautiously. It was far from 'beautiful'. It looked pretty much like it did every year. Last time Emily had seen it she hadn't even bothered to comment, just gave that little snooty look of hers.

When he didn't say anything else, she felt the need to fill the silence. "That one there is my favourite ornament," she told him, pointing to a little unicorn that hung on a branch near the top. "It was a gift to me from Luke actually. My friend Lane and I went through this huge unicorn phase when we were about ten. Posters, clothes, stationary, the whole bit. That Christmas Luke gave me that little unicorn ornament. First present he ever gave to us actually. I remember my mom laughing that she couldn't believe he ever went into a girly store to pick it out, and he turned beet red, but he was used to us by that point."

Tristan still didn't say anything, and when she looked up at him he was still staring at the tree as if transfixed. She kept blathering on, not sure if she was boring him, but not sure what else to say. Rory indicated her 'baby's first Christmas' ornament. "That, as you can probably tell, is mine. Of course it's a little misleading. My mom actually didn't buy it until I was six, and that was because I made her as all my other friends had ornaments from their first Christmas's. I never told them the difference. And, let me tell you, it was hard to find the right one 6 years later, but mom managed because it was so important to me."

She just kept going, describing all the ornaments on the tree. Because really, all their ornaments had stories. No plain red or silver balls for the Gilmore girls. Well, there was one blue one that had actually come from an old Christmas pageant costume of Rory's, but even it had a meaning. It took her a long time, telling him the story of every individual piece hanging there, but eventually she wound down, having nothing else to say. And still he was silent, and they just sat there together staring at the tree.

It seemed an eternity later before he spoke, "I couldn't sleep, and I turned it on, and….." he stopped suddenly, as if it wasn't what he meant to say. And it wasn't. He had awoken from another nightmare. They had faded over the past while, but still came to him occasionally. And they always ended the same. The screaming, and then the face that would haunt him for the rest of his life. After awaking in a cold sweat, he knew sleep was nothing more than a pipe cream for the night. He didn't know what had possessed him to turn on the tree, but it had started him thinking. He paused, then began again.

"It's not your Christmas tree only Rory," his words were tinged with sadness, but affectionate. She wasn't sure what he meant, but decided this wasn't the time to talk and just looked over at him expectantly.

He glanced back at her, the first time he had really looked at her since she had sat down. "It's you, your mom, and even Luke. The way you all are together. It's just, being with the three of you has been enjoyable for me, but last night all I could think of were my parents at home. Probably sitting in front of their perfectly groomed Christmas tree, my father with his brandy and my mother with her glass of white wine. And I just kept thinking of Christmas's as a kid, because I haven't even been back for years."

Tristan paused again for a moment, lowering his eyes before looking back at her. "I just wanted you to know, because you're the only one who's ever seen my father in action, they weren't bad parents, not really. I was always provided for. Always taken care of, whether it be by nanny or babysitter. I got presents at Christmas, and at birthdays. I had the right clothes when I went to school, and the right car when I turned sixteen. Appearances were key. They aren't bad people, no matter our problems now."

And again, she just sat there as he waved his hand at the tree, and continued on. "But this," his words had a tinge of helplessness to them. "_This _wasn't there."

At that point Rory could understand all he wasn't saying directly. What he, being him, was incapable of voicing out loud. It wasn't envy exactly, it was just him being presented again with what he didn't have with his parents. Rory knew her relationship with her mother was special, but none of this was unique to her family. Most families had special ornaments, holiday traditions. Most families loved each other unconditionally, and cared enough for their sons to support them in any way possible. "You wanted a baby's first Christmas ornament," was all she said softly, placing her hand on his knee. It was the best way she knew how to sum it up. And he nodded, grateful he wasn't being made to more fully express the feelings he was embarrassed to have.

They just sat there like that for a moment in silence, her hand resting on his knee in silent support. She wanted to hug him, but didn't think it was her place. She wanted to be the one to comfort, whether he really wanted it or not. And when she heard him say softly, more to himself than to her, "They didn't even come visit me in the hospital," she was at a loss for words. As much as she prided herself on being an empathetic person, this was out of her depth, far beyond her experience.

"I think we should open a present," she finally declared. And from the surprised look on his face, it seemed to be the last thing he expected her to say. And it wasn't what she had planned on coming out of her mouth, but now it seemed like the perfect idea. "It was something my mom and I did when I was younger," she explained, as if to give the idea some basis, "and I couldn't wait to open my presents. We opened one before we went to bed."

He looked a little taken aback. "I have presents?" was what he blurted out, not expecting to be receiving anything from them, and had resigned himself watching them open their gifts in the morning.

"Of course," Rory told him with a smile, not adding that Lorelai's present to him was a copy of a St. James bible she had swiped from a hotel. He wouldn't get the joke in the gift even when he opened it.

She got up and walked over to the tree where the gifts were piled. Leaning over, she sorted through the stack of gifts until she found the one that was covered in plain blue paper with a silver ribbon. Her present to him.

As she stood up with his gift, she felt confident in her idea to give this to him tonight, not just because of the reasons that had presented, but because it would be easier to do the gift thing without Lorelai and Luke there watching their every move. Because only the two of them really got it.

He took the gift from her as she sat back down beside him. Tristan stared at it for a moment, before gently taking off the paper, amusing Rory as she watched. She knew even has he held it in his hand before opening, he knew what type of present it was from the feel of it. But now with the paper off, he could see the full thing.

It wasn't anything spectacular or amazing. It could be found at most major book chains across the country. It was a preparatory book for the MCAT, the test every student had to write before getting into medical school.

She watched him stare at it for a moment, and said softly. "I thought it might come in handy." She tried to make her words nonchalant, but it didn't quite happen.

Rory was pleased when he opened the front cover without her prodding. She watched him read what she had written inside. She knew what the words were as he read them, as she knew her inscription off by heart.

"_What lies behind us and what lies before us are small matters compared to what lies within us." - Ralph Waldo Emerson_

_Merry Christmas Tristan. One day, when you're performing open-heart surgery at the Mayo Clinic, remember me fondly. And always know this, even if there's nobody there to remind you, you are capable of anything._

It was sappy, it was corny, and it had taken her hours to write it. She had spent a lot of time deciding what quote to use, because typically authors tended to express things better than she herself did. It just seemed to suit his circumstances. Even her three sentence message had caused her untold agony, not knowing exactly what to write. As she watched him read it, she hoped it was the right thing. And, when he finally lifted his head, and looked into her eyes, she rather thought that it was.

"Thank you," was all he told her, rather solemnly. He made a motion as if to hug her, and then pulled back, and she hid her disappointment as she had no right to it. "I really like it." And she knew, with him that was as touchy-feely as it was going to get. And she smiled, satisfied, hoping to have banished his inner demons if only for that night.

"I have something for you too," his words were awkward as he reached down into his bag that sat beside the couch. He pulled out a small package, simply wrapped by a gift bag. "I wasn't sure if I was going to give it to you, but…."

She didn't ask why not, just took the pre-offered bag from him not wanting to spoil the moment. Slowly, she broke the tape that was inelegantly holding the edges of the bag together and pulled it open.

"It isn't much," he was saying apologetically as she opened it, "I don't have a lot of money right now, and….." he kept apologizing for the gift, even though she thought it was perfect just as it was as she looked inside.

It was a collection of books, used she could tell but not that it mattered. All in the same theme. The first she pulled out was '_A Reporter's Life'_ by Walter Cronkite, then '_Burning Down My Master's House: My Life at the New York Times'_ by Jayson Blair; and '_War Torn: Stories of War from the Women Reporters Who Covered Vietnam'_ by Jurate Kazickas. And the last book was '_Flirting With Danger: Confessions of a Reluctant War Reporter'by_ Siobhan Darrow. As she had just been looking at the last book in the store the other day, Rory couldn't help but be impressed.

"I heard she was a better reporter than Amanpour anyway," Tristan quipped beside her, and she blushed as she remembered she had told him about her little 'complex' the first time they had talked.

"Thank you Tristan, I love the books," she told him honestly, and she did. She would get more use and enjoyment out of these books than some fancy necklace. And she refused to let herself feel guilty for admitting it because it was nothing less than the truth. There was nothing wrong with Logan buying her such a beautiful gift, in fact it had been amazing of him, it just wouldn't bring her the same pleasure reading these would.

And, she too resisted the urge to lean forward for a hug, although likely for different reasons than he had. It seemed wrong to initiate it, wrong when she would get enjoyment out of it on a far deeper level. Tristan had probably never thought of her in those terms, and it seemed wrong when she kept finding herself more drawn to him, even as she shouldn't be. So she sat awkwardly there, feeling like she should do something, but not sure what.

As they sat there, she felt a shiver course through her as it was a cold night. She saw Tristan notice, and he raised his eyebrow. "Cold?" was all he asked mildly, still wrapped in his blanket.

She shrugged, and suddenly became aware she was sitting there in her pyjamas with him. Of course they were perfectly plain, modest, and flannel for warmth, but wearing them still brought about a sense of intimacy.

"Come here," he urged, lifting up the corner of his blanket before his rational judgement could interfere and motioning her next to him.

Unlike his offer of a jacket earlier in the day, she took advantage of his offer of warmth. Hesitating only slightly before moving, she cuddled up next to him and he wrapped the blanket around them both. Rory sat erect, not wanting to lean on him, wondering if it would seem weird; but finally, she decided to stop over thinking it, and just let her head rest on his shoulder.

And in this way, using the cold as an excuse they both got the hug they had wanted desperately to give and receive, without actually acknowledging what it was.

Rory could feel the warmth, both from the blanket and the heat from his body. His body that was only covered in a shirt and boxers, a fact she refused to think about. As she let her head rest on his shoulder, she let her eyes fix on the Christmas tree. And, as she felt him hesitate, and then wrap his arm more firmly around her, she could feel herself getting drowsy, surrounded by the cocoon of warmth. "Merry Christmas Tristan," she heard herself say, slightly slurred as she slipped back into sleep.

"Merry Christmas Rory," he whispered the words, even as he knew she was asleep. And knowing she was out to the world, he allowed himself the small luxury of leaning over and placing a kiss on the top of her head, something he would never do when she might actually feel it.

And as he sat there, Rory snuggling into his side, and his arm wrapped firmly around her, he felt, for lack of a better sentiment, content. Thoughts of Logan, of the temptation of that which would never come to fruition that he placed on himself, threatened to intrude on the peaceful feeling of the evening, but selfishly he wouldn't let them. Not now. And with the feel of her breath lightly upon his shoulder, he found the sleep that he had thought would elude him all night since had had awoken, bathed in sweat.

His last recognized view was of the Christmas tree, and his last thought, not consciously acknowledged and that would be forgotten in the morning, was that the empty space on the top branch would be a good place for a photo ornament of him and Rory together.

And it was this, the two of them peacefully asleep together on the couch, that Lorelai saw as she came out of Rory's room. She hesitated, looking down at her daughter and Tristan together, and silently slipped upstairs to rejoin Luke.


	12. Almost Doesn't Count

**Title**: What Lies Within Us

Chp. 12 Almost Doesn't Count

**Disclaimer**: I don't own. Duh.

**Introduction:** I know I'm delusional….but Trory. Well, obviously not at first because that would be too easy, but I wanted to clarify. Basically set in the present, maybe like a year ahead, slightly altered to make things work. Oh, side note, and although this fic started before viewing of 'wedding bell blues', assume Rory and Logan got together in similar matter (they're just **not** having sex), and decided on some 'strings' eventually. Stuff is slightly diff, see rest of fic.

**Rating:** Pg-13 this chap.

**Author's note**: I hate reviews (I'm also a really bad liar). I know I said the weekend, but I got some fairly severe writers block, and I wasn't sure how much I was going to put into this chapter. (it's longer, if that's any consolation). And, for those of you who were scared I was done since chp 11 was the 'namesake' chapter…… like I'd end it like that. It would be pretty darn unsatisfying, for everyone, including me. And even though I'm putting it out at supper tonight, means it probably won't be up until sometime tomorrow, which just makes it seem later. But, it's up now.

* * *

"A hatchet?" 

"No."

"A tiara?"

"No."

"A pony who…."

"For the love of God mom, would you just open your present?" Rory finally cut her mother off frustratedly as she watched Lorelai shake her present and throw out random, illogical guesses as to what might be inside. Even though she had already opened Rory's main gift of a new, elegant guestbook for the inn, the apron was still left to open.

Most of the gifts had already been torn apart; this group was not one known for it's patience. Wrapping paper littered the floor, almost paining Luke to look at it, but Lorelai had flippantly assured him they'd get to it later.

As Lorelai continued to shake her gift, Rory noticed the necklace lightly shaking around her neck. Her Christmas present from Luke. She had come downstairs wearing it this morning, the two of them obviously having exchanged their more intimate gifts the night before. Rory smiled as she saw it; the necklace was no surprise to her. She had helped Luke pick it out the last time she was in town. Swearing himself incapable of thoughtful gifts, he had forced her to help him, mostly through guilt. But she knew they had picked out a good piece of jewellery; the pendant was a small dragonfly, set with tiny diamonds. Luke hadn't let her see the cost, but she knew it couldn't have been cheap.

Tristan sat beside her on the couch, his few presents in front of him. There was the bible from Lorelai, a gift that had left him clueless as her mother had laughed. Upon explanation of the meaning he even seemed to look a little sheepish of that reminder of the past. Luke had even tossed in a small tool kit, assuring him that every guy needed one, even when the dorms were serviced for them. Of course he had given the same kit to Rory the year before, and she didn't think she had ever cracked the packaging except to use the screwdriver to help pry open a jar. Besides the gift of the night before, Rory had gotten him a pair of Yale sweats to wear when he went running.

She knew he had been the first to awaken this morning. Not surprising considering his habits. By the time she had opened her eyes, it was later and Luke had already been cooking breakfast in the kitchen. It had taken her just a moment to realize where she saw, and who she was with. But when she raised her face to his, not wanting to wake him, he had been conscious already and looking down at her. She had immediately turned red as she looked at the clock, knowing how long he must have sat there, completely still, being careful not to wake her. And when she saw the way she had practically crawled into his lap overnight, it couldn't have been comfortable for him. But he just shrugged it off, and when he finally pulled his arm from around her she felt a little empty.

Even she couldn't be oblivious to the looks her mother had been shooting at her and Tristan that morning. Rory knew she had seen the two of them together; she had been gone when Rory went back to her room. And from her looks, and comments subtler than Rory thought Lorelai was capable of, she knew how her mother was taking it. But she couldn't be annoyed, couldn't call her on it because she knew in many respects her mother was right. It was physically platonic, but that didn't stop it from being wrong when she was having treacherous thoughts.

As she had stood in the shower, letting the water beat down on her, she could still feel his touch. His arm around her, the hand that had been resting on her knee, his stomach under her fingers. The physical awareness was threatening to her; that heightened sensation was something she hadn't felt before.

She let out a sarcastic sigh of relief as Lorelai finally tore into her present, causing her mother to throw the wrapping at her. Finally, her mother just rolled her eyes as she pulled out the apron covered in kitties. As Rory laughed, Lorelai just promised her it would either look attractive on Luke, or find its use in the rag pile.

As they all sat there, unsure of what the next move should be, Rory watched as Lorelai leaned against the back of her chair, and sigh. "Well, the fun part of the day is over. Now time for the torture."

"Torture?" she heard Tristan asked, confused.

Rory shot her mother a look, and then turned to Tristan. "We're supposed to go to my grandparents today for a holiday dinner. Mom's a little dramatic, that's all. You don't have to come if you don't want to," she added that last part, knowing while he might not hate it as much as Luke did, the evening would not be his idea of a good time.

"I'll come," he promised, grabbing some of the paper that was lying on the floor and tossed it in a garbage bag, and began to clean up. She wanted to make sure he understood exactly what the evening would entail, what he was agreeing to. She wanted him to come, to have her grandparents meet him. But not only were they high society people, they were acquaintances of his family.

"I wish I had the option," she heard Luke mumble as he grabbed some of the plates from the living room table to take back to the kitchen. As he walked by Lorelai, she grabbed his hand.

"You don't have to come," she murmured, holding on, "You know that."

"You go, I go," was all he replied simplistically, leaning over to kiss her gently on the forehead, before taking the plates into the kitchen.

As much as bridges had been partially mended with Richard and Emily, Rory knew what the visits cost Luke, and how much Lorelai hated he wasn't completely comfortable. But as Rory went, she went, and therefore Luke went. But it added a new state of tension to Friday night dinners, and holiday occasions that hadn't been there before. But Luke was a part of their lives now. As much as she loved her grandparents, Rory knew that even her grandfather looked down on Luke, and it was hard to watch when she loved him too.

She scrambled to her feet as Tristan got up to take the bag of garbage out and followed him to the back door. "Really, you don't have to come," she insisted, wrapping her arms around her to ward off the cold as he had opened the door to go out. "It's just a rather uncomfortable, polite chit-chat dinner."

"I have been known to be polite on occasions," he raised his eyebrows as he slipped on his shoes, giving her a smile to show he was teasing.

She rolled her eyes, "You know what I mean. We won't be long; you can have the place to yourself and we'll be back before you know it."

He stepped out the door to carry the bag to the outside garbage can, and turned back, "You go, I go," he quipped, leaving Rory to stare after him.

* * *

The Gilmore mansion stood before them. They had parked the car, and were standing there for a moment before going in. Rory could remember all the times she had had to convince her mother to enter this building. Not the way it was normally supposed to be. She snuck a glance at Tristan, but he wasn't in awe of the place, he had grown up in a house just like this. Somehow, that made the evening seem a little more promising. 

She watched Lorelai take Luke's hand as she knocked on the door. It wasn't that she was trying to rub Richard and Emily's faces in their relationship, it was mutual support. She had done that every time they came over for dinner. She had accepted they were her parents, her daughter's grandparents, and they would be in her life forever, but that doesn't mean she and her mother would ever get to the point in their relationship they had been approaching before the Luke/Christopher conflict.

Rory smiled as the new maid opened the door. This one was blond and looked as if she had graduated from high school last week. She wouldn't last long. But then, none did. As she took their coats, Richard and Emily walked into the hall.

"Grandma, grandpa," Rory greeted them as they walked in, "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas Rory," her grandmother replied, giving her a hug.

As she pulled away, Rory brought Tristan forward from where he had been standing in the back, his hands in his pockets, a pose not unsimilar to Luke's. "This is Tristan DuGrey, I believe you've met." After all, he was one of the Chilton 'friends' that had come to her sixteenth birthday part. "He's starting at Yale next term, and has been spending Christmas in Stars Hollow."

"Mr. and Mrs. Gilmore, thank you for having me," Tristan's voice was both bland and respectful, a role he had played often before, as he shook their hands. As Rory watched her grandparents react to him, she realized the turmoil between Tristan and his father wasn't as public as he thought it was as Richard and Emily were smiling, and inquiring after his parents; questions he expertly avoided.

"Drinks?" Richard asked the group as they headed into the sitting room. "Dinner isn't ready quite yet."

"White wine Dad," Lorelai replied, sitting on the couch with Luke beside her, still holding his hand.

"I'll have a vodka straight up, Mr.Gilmore," Luke replied. Even though he was a grown man, approaching 40, he couldn't get away from calling Lorelai's father by the formal address. And as much as he liked to pretend that he didn't care what they thought, he was still never comfortable asking for a beer. But he saw Richard shoot him a look, and simply poured from the Heineken that they already had sitting there, chilled, and handed it to him. While he hadn't warmed to Luke, he had accepted the man for who he was.

"Sprite please, grandpa," Rory had reached the age of majority already, but she still felt uncomfortable asking for alcohol from her grandparents. When Tristan asked for a scotch, she felt a little weird, but he didn't have the hang-ups she had, and it wasn't like he was an underage minor. At the same time, she could see her grandfather nod his approval at Tristan's drink choice.

"So Tristan," Emily began, smiling gratefully up at her husband as he handed her a sherry. "Are you just transferring to Yale this term?"

He shook his head, and slowly slipped his drink. "No, I'm enrolling. This will be my first year of college. I was in the army for a few years out of high school." He was surprised, travelling in the social circles they did, they weren't a little more aware of his family's affairs these past two years.

They seemed impressed by the news, primarily Richard who had just sat down in his customary chair. "Good for you son," he replied, genuinely, if not a little condescendingly, "And now Yale. You couldn't have picked a better school, and not just because my granddaughter goes there." He looked benevolently at Rory, who smiled.

"It's one of the top universities in the country," Emily was explaining, as if that all hadn't gone into Tristan's decision making process. "While Richard's a Yale man himself, he's a little biased, but it's true none the less."

While Tristan was nodding his agreement, Richard had began, "So Tristan, what do you plan on studying?"

As Rory had horrific flashbacks to a similar grilling of Dean that had taken place, Lorelai interjected, "I don't suppose the third degree could wait until dessert, or at the very least supper dad?" Conversations like this with Richard and Emily had never gone well.

Of course there had never been a man grilled with aspirations quite like Tristan's. "I don't mind," he looked reassuringly at both Lorelai and Rory, before turning back to Richard. "I plan on studying medicine, sir." He tossed that in there, knowing men like Richard would appreciate the show of respect. He tended to shy away from telling people his plans, because it would be embarrassing if they didn't come true, but it sounded impressive all the same right now.

She almost expected the questions about what sort of grades Tristan got, but Richard just nodded his approval. Because this wasn't a Dean repeat. This was years later. They were used to her with boys, and they knew Logan was still her boyfriend. And of course it probably didn't hurt that Tristan was biologically part of a family they considered their social equals. But still, when she saw Emily was smiling too, both of them approving of Tristan, she felt herself relax.

"But I don't think joining the circus has been officially ruled out yet," Lorelai quipped, taking a sip of her drink.

"Well, I do enjoy the lion taming," Tristan smiled, catering to her comment as the elder Gilmores just rolled their eyes.

"And how's business Luke?" Richard asked the question gruffly, turning to the man beside his daughter. They made polite conversation every time. Acceptance of Luke had been necessary to get Lorelai back into their lives, and politeness at the very least was necessary to keep her there.

"Can't complain," Luke replied, the same answer he gave every time, taking a sip of his beer. "And you?"

"Good, good," Richard answered back. "I just acquired some new clients." And Luke nodded his head, pretending like he cared. Because his act of not being miserable every time they came here was necessary to keep Lorelai happy as well. For all their problems, for all their fights, they were her parents. And even though she would never admit it, she wasn't at a point where she wanted to do without them. He felt Lorelai squeeze his hand, and knew that for her, the few nights in a shirt and tie, with people who thought he was below them, was worth it.

They all looked up when the maid entered the room. "Dinners on the table," she told them with a smile, bobbing a short curtsey before leaving.

As they entered the dining room, Emily was explaining the special meal that had been made especially for the holidays, and Lorelai ensured that she and Rory were walking in side by side towards the back of the group.

"Graduating high school, not getting pregnant and going to Yale wasn't enough for you," she whispered good naturedly in her daughter's ear.

"Huh?" Rory turned to her mother, confused.

"You get to bring home boys they like too," Lorelai spoke softly as she pulled away to go to her seat at the table. Rory paused for a moment, and as she saw both Tristan and Luke at the table she knew what her mother meant. Tristan, although not the spoiled society kid he was before, knew how to be comfortable in this kind of environment. Richard was smiling at him like the son he never had. Luke by contrast was uncomfortably pulling at his collar. Boyfriend or not, he fit in well in all aspects of her life. Unlike Logan, this wasn't his world anymore, but unlike some of her past boyfriends, he could fit in when the situation arose.

She smiled as she sat down beside him, absurdly pleased, listening to her grandfather list the merits of Yale's medical school, and undergraduate science program.

* * *

"Ugh, need food," Lorelai complained, kicking off her high heels as they walked back into their house. 

"We just had a full dinner mom," Rory reminded her, distracted as Tristan held out his hand for her jacket to hang up. She smiled gratefully at him, not expecting it.

"And how much pate foie gras did you eat?" she heard Lorelai's voice call out sarcastically from the kitchen, and she could hear a cupboard open.

"Point taken," Rory admitted reluctantly, conceding the goose liver hadn't been very appetizing. At least not after she had learned what it was. "Grab me something of whatever you're getting too."

She set the present she had received from her grandparents down on the table. An old copy of Don Quixote. It gave her grandfather pleasure, searching for rare antique volumes of great literary works to give to her. While she still enjoyed the modern volumes, encased in plastic, nothing beat the smell and feel of the old novels.

"I think I'm heading to bed," Luke admitted, loosening his tie that he had worn that evening. They had stayed later than normal at the grandparents. "It's late, and since Christmas is over I have to open the diner in the morning."

"Oh," Lorelai seemed a little surprised as she came back into the living room from the kitchen, she finished chewing whatever she had shoved in her mouth and tossed a bag of chips to Rory who caught them easily. "Well, I'll go too."

"You don't have to," Luke told her as he shrugged out of his sport coat and hung it on the banister.

"You go, I go," she tossed his words from earlier that evening back at him, as she pushed him up the stairs. It wasn't like this was the first time she had done this. While she still couldn't do the getting up early part, she could train herself to fall asleep early, just to be with him. "Going to bed?" she asked Tristan and Rory.

"It's ten mom," Rory told her amusedly, and Lorelai grimaced a little following behind Luke who was heading up the stairs. "That pretty much says it all."

Lorelai made a face at her daughter as she headed up the stairs as well. She wanted to make sure to get up there before Luke fell asleep for the night; there was another little Christmas present 'to herself' from Victoria's Secret she wanted to put on. "Uh huh. Boxing Day shopping tomorrow, right?"

"Of course," Rory nodded as she watched her mother go. She passed the chip bag to Tristan and kicked off her heels at the door as she went to go change.

"Pick out a movie or something," she yelled back into the living room as she decided what to slip on. A rather slinky nightie of hers was hanging on a chair, and she blushed when she saw it. Deliberately, she slipped into a raggedy pair of Yale sweats and an oversized wool sweater. While incredibly comfortable, it was probably one of the least attractive outfits she had.

When she came back out, Tristan was on the couch, already having changed from his 'nice clothes' to a pair of sweats and shirt of his own. Then, belatedly remembering his early morning tendencies, she asked a little awkwardly, "Sorry, I just assumed you wouldn't want to be going to bed. But I suppose getting up at 5, you might want to sleep. I can just go read in my room. Of course, courtesy of you, I have a lot of prospects to choose from."

He shook his head, grabbing a handful of chips from the bag and handing it to her. "Nah, I may get up early, but I'm still young enough I survive on very little sleep."

She grabbed the bag and sat down on the couch beside him, "So what did you decide on?"

In truth, they had a fairly limited collection. Most of the time they just rented from the video store. But, he held up a copy of XXX with Vin Diesel that he had found. Rory fought the urge to laugh as it had actually been more of a joke gift from her mother to her last year. It had some of the cheesiest dialogue in the world, which was fun to mock.

"What?" he asked after seeing her expression. "I've never seen it."

"Nothing," she shook her head innocently as she stood up again. "Listen, I'll go get us something to drink if you want to pop it in."

When she came back carrying sodas, the opening credits were rolling, and she handed over his coke before sitting down again. As the movie hadn't really started yet, she decided to bring up something from earlier that evening. "You didn't have to say yes to my grandparents you know," she told him as she popped open her can.

That evening, Emily and Richard had practically insisted that she come to the New Year's Eve party they were throwing. It wasn't that she was thrilled with the prospect, but she had accepted. She liked to think she had a backbone, but she did hate to disappoint anyone, whether it be her grandparents or Lorelai. And it wasn't like Stars Hollow had anything 'happening' going on. She had known even if Logan showed up, it would be no problem him coming, he was on a first name basis with Richard after all. And they had of course invited Tristan, who had accepted, albeit reluctantly.

He shrugged, taking a sip of his drink, "And what else would you suggest I do?" It was an honest question. She was going, Logan would go if he came, and he had nowhere else to be, nobody else to be with.

She didn't answer directly, but added in all seriousness, "I'll make sure your parents aren't on the guest list." She hoped it wasn't an empty reassurance. She wasn't sure how she would explain it to her grandparents, but if he were coming she would find some way to make sure the DuGrey's wouldn't be there.

He shrugged, in what he hopped was a nonchalant way, "Even if they're invited, they won't be there," he told her in explanation of why he wasn't concerned. "After Christmas every year they take off for Cancun for a vacation. Tradition. They won't be in the States." A tradition in which he had never been included. And as the movie started, he felt her hand on his shoulder.

* * *

By the time the end credits rolled, Rory was half sprawled on the couch, her legs lying across Tristan's lap. It was hard to watch movies and sit ramrod straight the whole time. But it had lead to distractions throughout the entire movie. Even if he wasn't aware of it, she had been acutely aware every time he had absent-mindedly rubbed a leg that lay on his lap. It felt like she should say something, tell him it was inappropriate, but she was the one who had ended up half on top of him, and she was enjoying it too much to care. 

They hadn't talked much throughout the whole movie, although Rory had glanced over at him every time a truly bad piece of dialogue was spoken, wanting to know if he found it as amusing as she did. But his face had been implacable for the most part, and she had been a little disappointed they hadn't been able to mock the movie the whole way through.

But she watched as he sat there for a moment, staring at the screen after the movie had ended, and finally said a little wryly, "Well, I think the omission of a best screenplay Oscar was well-deserved."

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, glad he couldn't have honestly thought that was good. Amusing, sure, but not quality.

He smiled as she pulled her legs gently from his lap, careful not to inadvertently kick something. She was wrapped in the blanket he slept with on the couch.

Tristan had to laugh at her appearance as he looked at her. He knew he was in a bad state, as much as he pretended otherwise. She was dressed in one of the ugliest sweaters he had ever seen, the ponytail she had tied her hair in was askew and half falling out, the mascara she had put on earlier was smudged on her cheek, and he was still attracted to her. As much as he wished it was something he could willingly shake off, it wasn't. And as unfortunate as it was necessary, she seemed completely oblivious to it.

At least he usually thought she was. But as they sat there on the couch, he saw something come into her gaze. With other girls he would chalk it up to lust or desire, but with Rory he had no idea. Maybe looking at a guy in a way that made him feel inflamed was something she did often, but he doubted it.

His laughter died down, and he gazed back at her. She didn't look away, just stayed fixated on his face. Before exercising better judgement, without making a conscious decision, he felt himself leaning towards her slowly. She had every chance to pull away, and she didn't. Rory just stayed still, her breathing laboured, as he came towards her. He knew deep down he was succumbing to a bout of insanity, but didn't care. He go so close he could almost feel her breath, and he never even closed his eyes, not wanting to miss anything.

It was at that point the doorbell rang.

Rory shot back quickly, and she was already at the edge of the couch she practically tumbled to the ground. Tristan closed his eyes, reflecting for a moment on his stupidity as she scrambled to her feet and tossed the blanket at him.

"I wonder who it could be at this hour?" he was shocked to hear the words come out of his mouth, normal and unstrained, despite the turmoil that was going on inside.''

"It's only 11:30pm," she responded as she walked to the door. Her voice was husky, but not full of hatred, and he supposed that was something at least. He wanted to look into her eyes, make sure she wasn't pissed over what had almost just happened, but she was already walking away. He had come so close to doing the stupidest thing imaginable, and didn't want her upset over it. He wanted to believe in the adage that 'almost didn't count'.

He watched her take a couple deep breaths before she opened the door. He couldn't see the entrance from the couch as she opened the door, but he could hear her surprised voice, and see the lips that descended on hers as the boy walked in the door.

In the cruellest of life's little ironies, it was Logan at the door. "What are you doing here?" Rory asked as she hugged him, and Tristan hoped he was the only one who could hear the tension mixed in with the surprise in her voice.

"I tried to call," Logan told her, nodding to Tristan when he noticed him. He then turned back to Rory, and added pointedly. "But someone had their cell turned off."

She blushed as she remembered turning it off the other day, partially as a matter of avoidance. "I thought if you were coming, it wouldn't be until at least New Year's."

He shrugged. "I had nothing better to do," but belied his rather harsh sounding words with a kiss. He wasn't going to admit that it was a small proportion that he missed her, and a larger proportion that Tristan was here with her.

"Well, I'm glad you came," Rory hoped the words didn't sound as false to him as they did in her head. It wasn't that she was upset he was here, she had wanted him to come, invited him, but at this particular moment, this exact time, she didn't want him here. "We were just watching a movie."

There was no time to analyze, no time to process, but she was very certain Tristan had been about to kiss her when Logan had knocked on the door. And she had been going to let him.

Why did he have to come now? Maybe it was fortuitous he had come when he did, but it sure didn't feel that way right now. She didn't like she was resenting her boyfriends presence. The passing thought came that, if she was going to be feeling all this guilt, she would have preferred to do something to at least earn it.

A thought did occur to her though, "We really don't have anywhere for you to sleep Logan, as bad as it sounds. So unless you're willing to take the floor, there aren't too many options."

"I could sleep with you," he suggested, looking towards her room.

She shook her head. "You know that isn't happening Logan. This is my mother's house." And it wasn't just her mother, it was them. They weren't there yet. While platonic sleep was possible, she didn't think he would be going for that. "It's the floor, or a room at my mother's inn, your choice."

He hesitated, and she knew that wasn't what he came here for. Rory didn't know what he had been expecting though, he knew how big their house was, and Tristan was taking the couch. It was then she heard Tristan say, "I'll go to the inn." And Logan looked pleased with the idea, even if Tristan looked a little dejected.

And it was Tristan she was looking at when she said, "Of course you're not going to do that." She hadn't meant her statement to come out as roughly as it had, but she wasn't going to let him do that.

She turned back to Logan, knowing he wouldn't want to be the one to bend, to be the one to be the bigger man and offer to go. All other stuff that was occurring aside, she wasn't going to do that to Tristan. Make him leave, make him the outsider on a whim of Logan's, even though the guilt was tempting her to do just that. "You can go to the inn," she didn't care if her words came out a little stubbornly. It was in the back of her mind she shouldn't be so insistent, Logan was after all her boyfriend, but her insistence had nothing even to do with that; it was about making Tristan not feel displaced again. And as childish as it was, she was also upset Logan hadn't wanted to be here in the first place.

Tristan watched the exchange between them, and as Logan opened his mouth to speak, he knew this was the spark of another argument, another disagreement. He didn't want to be sitting there on the couch, between them again, so he excused himself to give himself some privacy. But this time, Rory took the time to notice, but said nothing before she turned back to Logan.

He headed up the stairs, knowing he would probably hear them from anywhere in the house, but short of barricading himself in the bathroom downstairs, this probably gave the greatest illusion of privacy. He stood in the darkness at the top of the steps, unable to stop himself from watching and listening, as bad as it was.

Tristan felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to find Lorelai standing there, looking at him. "Doorbell woke me," she said softly in explanation.

He nodded, and motioned down the stairs, "Just giving them some privacy," his words were a half lie. Both he and Lorelai knew he could hear every word going on down there. Just as she had before he had come up here.

"If it turns out that way, you can stay at Luke's place since he's here," she offered quietly. "Closer. Cheaper."

He nodded his thanks, and she added, "If it's Logan, he can stay at the inn." He felt surprise at her words, but supposed it was just because Logan had money and he didn't know. He had no clue of the underlying dislike of Logan.

The words exchanged below turned loud for a moment, and he turned his head towards the couple arguing in the living room, torn between going down there to either reassure Rory he was fine with leaving, or kicking out Logan so things could go back to the comfortable way they were before Logan showed up tonight. Because it wouldn't be at all the same if he were here. He was the boyfriend, the one who should be joking with Lorelai and Luke, impressing her grandparents. And Tristan would just be there, inconsequential.

When he turned back to Lorelai, almost forgetting she was there, she was staring at him intently. "You should tell her, you know," she finally said, after a long period of time.

"What?" Tristan chose to play dumb even though he thought he knew what she was referring too, even though he had hoped she would be oblivious to it.

"Tell her you love her, ask her to be with you," the words weren't blunt, but kind, urging him to tell her daughter the very thing he never would.

He almost blurted out _"She might say no"_, his first instinctive response. With that response, if he had jumped up and down and the town square and declared his feelings, he couldn't have been more obvious. But that was just instinct speaking. Her not returning his feelings wasn't what he had to be scared about. Her saying yes was the worse answer, as much as he craved it. Not knowing what to say, he just closed his eyes for a moment as Lorelai watched, and waited.

He just looked back at her, somewhat helplessly, struck by the absolute absurdity of this whole experience. And not absurdity in an amusing way, in a torturous, painful way. Most of his own doing. And now here he was, with Rory's mother, her best friend, of all people, fully aware of what he felt. Even if he wouldn't admit to his feelings out loud, he didn't have the determination or the acting skills to lie about them either.

Lorelai finally turned to leave, but not before letting out a sigh at the sounds of her daughter and Logan below, and patting Tristan's shoulder.

Tristan stood there for awhile longer, not moving.


	13. Beginning To See The Light

**Title**: What Lies Within Us

Chp. 13 Beginning to see the light

**Disclaimer**: I don't own. Duh.

**Introduction:** I know I'm delusional….but Trory. Well, obviously not at first because that would be too easy, but I wanted to clarify. Basically set in the present, maybe like a year ahead, slightly altered to make things work. Oh, side note, and although this fic started before viewing of 'wedding bell blues', assume Rory and Logan got together in similar matter (they're just **not** having sex), and decided on some 'strings' eventually. Stuff is slightly diff, see rest of fic.

**Rating:** Pg-13 this chap.

**Author's note**: I hate reviews (I'm also a really bad liar). Thanks to anyone who has reviewed. In real fact, reviews make me want to write more and faster, even though it wasn't possible this time. Really long update time, but have a good excuse. You try to write 7 finals in 10 days and see how much time you have to update. I have two left, but I needed a stress relief, so I churned this out (rather quickly I might add). Updates will occur when finals are done, which will be soon.

* * *

"For God's sake, I'll just go," Tristan tried to make the words sound forceful as he walked back down the stairs to where Rory and Logan were fighting. They turned to him in surprise. 

He had waited up in that darkened hallway for what seemed like an eternity, listening to the two of them. Rory wasn't giving up, and Logan couldn't see exactly what was wrong in just showing up and expecting Tristan to leave. He didn't want to listen to it anymore, didn't want to be in the middle, be the cause of conflict. It would be easier, simpler for everyone, if he just insisted that he leave, no matter what Rory said. It was probably just a matter of form anyway, a matter of politeness. While maybe he had dibs since he "was here first", Logan was her boyfriend, and should be there.

Rory's head whipped around in surprise from where she was standing with her back to him. "Don't be a martyr, Tristan," her words were clipped, and he wasn't sure if she was angrier at Logan for wanting to stay, or him for agreeing to leave. "Logan can stay at the inn, and everything will be fine."

"I'm happy to go," he lied, hopefully convincingly enough that they both bought it. He would be happy enough in that it would simplify things.

"See?" Logan threw up his arms when Rory still looked thunderous. "He's happy, I'm happy, why can't you be happy?"

She rolled her eyes, "Logan, you ass. He's your friend. What else is he going to do? He feels obligated. Unlike you, some people in this world have manners and are considerate of others."

She knew Logan couldn't get why she was so upset. Maybe she was overdoing it a little bit, but it didn't matter. She didn't want Tristan to feel obligated to go. Not just because she wanted him here, but she didn't want him to feel like some second choice, like he didn't really belong here for the break, even though he had been invited. And even though she could understand why he was doing it, she was a little annoyed with Tristan for just giving in.

_He had almost kissed her._

The thought kept running through her mind as she looked at the two of them standing there, together. She had initially had been so sure that was what he had been about to do, but now she wasn't so sure. Logically, she knew she wasn't imagining things, he had been so close to her; she could smell the barbeque chips on his breath, and hadn't even cared. Was there any mistaking his actions for something else? It was just that he had acted so normal afterwards, was now even acting like it had never happened. Although what could she expect? Him to try and kiss her in front of her boyfriend? And the awareness, the connection, she couldn't have been the only one who felt it, could she? And what kind of person did that make her?

Oh God she was confused.

And the two of them weren't making it any easier. Just by them being there together, she didn't know what she felt. If there was anything for her to even be conflicted about. Illogically she just wanted Logan to go away so she could talk with Tristan, determine what had or had not been about to happen between them, make sure she wasn't going crazy. And then that made her think about doing more than talking with Tristan, and she wanted to scream because it wasn't supposed be this way. She had a boyfriend, who she liked. She wasn't supposed to want to kiss someone else. To be willing to drop everything for someone else who had never even said they were interested in her. And he probably didn't even want that, had probably just gotten carried away in the moment, if he had actually even been about to do anything…..

Her frustration grew to not only include Tristan and Logan but herself, for being such an idiot. It made her words come out harsher when she said, "Fine, if you want it that way, it's fine by me," to Tristan who had already begun to pack his bag.

She knew Logan was going to ask her if she was PMSing, just _knew_ he was going to ask it when he looked at her as if she were insane. He thought better of it when she threw a glare at him. He had asked that once before when she had been pissed off at him, and she hadn't talked to him for a week.

"But don't," she added, "Think this is going to change anything tonight. Tristan, if you're so gung ho on going, I'll drive you in the morning. Tonight, you stay here. It's too late to go anywhere. You," she pointed at Tristan, "Stay on the couch. Do not let Logan bully you into giving it up. And you," she pointed at her boyfriend even as she pulled some side pillows off the couch and tossed him a blanket. "You can sleep on the floor, and then tomorrow you can have the dubious honour of the couch. Your privileged back can take it for one night." She didn't even both to say anything else, except an abrupt, "Goodnight," tossed over her shoulder as she walked back to her room and firmly shut the door.

Logan and Tristan both stared after her in varying degrees of shock and surprise. "Girls," was all Logan finally muttered lamely as he tossed his "bed" of pillows on the floor, having no clue as to what triggered Rory's behaviour, made worse when Tristan had came back downstairs.

Tristan was surprised as well, but for varying reasons and to a different degree than Logan was. He really couldn't understand why she was so upset. Him going wasn't just to make it easier on himself, it was to make it easier on her too. It would allow them to forget what he had been stupid enough to almost do. Let her have her boyfriend close by.

"I wasn't trying to kick you out when I came," Logan told him awkwardly, but honestly, his form of an apology.

"I know, don't worry about it." Tristan's words came out on a sigh. For all that Logan was jealous, Tristan knew his intention hadn't been to displace him. He just hadn't thought beyond showing up here and inserting himself back in with Rory. It just doubled his guilt, that without even knowing it, Logan did have just cause to be wary of him.

_He had almost kissed her_.

It made him feel awful on so many levels as he stared down at Logan, his friend who had helped him out when he needed it. He tried to push it from his mind, pretend it didn't happen. Because although nothing had happened, something almost had at his initiation, and if he could help it, it never would again.

* * *

Tristan sat awkwardly in the back seat, his duffel bag beside him. The radio was on, but not loud enough to forestall conversation. "You don't have to do this," Rory told him as she glanced at him in the review mirror, the same refrain she had repeated many times. Tristan simply shook his head they pulled up in front of Luke's. Logan, who sat in the front seat beside her just sighed. 

It was at her mother's, and as a byproduct Luke's, insistence that he was staying here rather than at the inn. She just had spoken about how it had made sense financially; why pay when Luke wasn't even at his place anyway? And the diner was closer to their house.

Tristan knew what Lorelai was thinking when she pointed out that with the close proximity, they wouldn't have to come pick him up every day for doing stuff. It almost scared him how perceptive Rory's mother could be. She knew, had somehow figured out, that by not staying there he would try and gradually phase out from being with them. Try to remove himself from the equation entirely. It would be easier if he were at the inn, farther away, his lack of vehicle a good excuse. He would even be willing to be out the money. But Loreali, possibly rivalling her daughter in her stubbornness, had insisted, and here he was.

Rory and Logan had watched on, neither really understanding the subtleties in his and Lorelai's conversation. Rory, who even with the events of the previous night, could not see exactly what was in front of her, a fact for which he would convince himself he was grateful. Logan, who assumed his protestations over staying at Luke's were for the reasons he himself would have; the place was over a small town diner.

After last night, Tristan didn't know how to act around Rory, or around her mother. Lorelai, because they were both conscious of his feelings for Rory. Her daughter, because she had to have realized that Tristan had come within inches of kissing her, interrupted by Logan's arrival. But she was acting so normal, like nothing had happened, and because it simplified things for both of them, he followed suit. Self-denial, acting, those were things that were nothing new.

Rory got out of the car to toss money in the meter, and Tristan slid out of the side door. He clutched his duffel bag to him, which currently held all his worldly possessions. As Rory deposited the last quarter, they both noticed that Logan wasn't getting out of the car.

"Coming?" Rory asked in a disparaging tone, raising her eyebrow and gesturing towards the diner as he rolled down the window.

He shook his head as he reclined his car seat and leaned back. "Nah, I'll just relax here. You two go on."

Rory stalked up to the car, willing herself to be calm and not to care too much. "Come on Logan, just while we get Tristan settled and stuff. You've never actually seen Luke's. Come in. You have to see some part of the town besides my house."

"Just hurry back," was all Logan replied, leaning through the window to kiss her quickly and then leaned back on his seat.

She had brought him to Stars Hollow once before, which hadn't lasted very long. He hadn't wanted to be here, and despite his willingness to stay and try and please her, there had been no point. She couldn't enjoy being home when he was less than enthusiastic, and couldn't even fake an adequate interest, a talent she would have assumed he could fake after all the society parties. Him being here now, she had hoped things would be different.

Rory backed away from the car slowly, and walked to the diner, Tristan following beside her. "I think I feel the need for a long cup of coffee," the words were under her breath even though they were audible, more for her benefit than for his.

As was usual for the daytime, the diner was busy yet again. And, as usual, a high number of the most gossip-prone people in the town were there. Rory watched as Miss Patty waved a greeting, more intended for Tristan with the flirtatious smile that filled her face. She saw Babbette look at the two of them, notice Logan in the car, and then turn and start talking furiously to Maury who sat across from her. She could just imagine the love triangle scenarios that were being thought up.

Luke had just finished serving a table beside them, and when he noticed them standing there he motioned for them to follow him back to the counter. They weaved their way through the tables to the front. Luke grabbed a set of keys of a nail in the wall and tossed them to Tristan. "Big one is for the front door, small one is for apartment upstairs," he explained quickly, "Alarm code is written in my ledger upstairs."

Tristan nodded, "Thanks Luke, for….."

The older man cut him off with a wave of his hand, uncomfortable with the gratitude. "Don't worry about it," was all he said gruffly, then added, "Feel free to help yourself to anything you want, except the money from the cash register."

Rory laughed as she stood up from the counter. "Try not to borrow Luke's clothes Tristan; I don't think the flannel look would work for you. Luke, you look busy, I'll show Tristan upstairs so he can drop off his stuff."

As Luke nodded his agreement, noting that table 3 was motioning for more coffee, Rory continued, "And, I could sure use a large cup of coffee and a burger."

"When could you not?" Luke responded dryly. "But I'm assuming you're referring to now?" He was already making a note on his order pad. He looked expectantly at Tristan.

"Uh, some fries would be good." He responded, turning quickly to follow Rory upstairs as she had taken off even as he was finishing his order.

"Uh…Logan's waiting in the car," he felt the need to point out the obvious, even though she probably hadn't forgotten in that short a time, but she had just ordered a meal.

"I know," was all she replied as she motioned for him to open the door to Luke's apartment. From the final tone of her voice, he decided to just leave the topic alone.

When the door was opened, Tristan was a little surprised at what he saw. He didn't really know what he was expecting, but the space was large and comfortable. And surprisingly clean and domesticated.

"Take Luke's bed, it'll be more comfortable," Rory explained, motioning towards the larger bed on the right side with the television in front of it.

"There's more than one bed?" Tristan asked, walking over to the bed and tossing down his duffel bag.

She nodded even as she flopped down on the couch not far from the door. "Yeah, Luke expanded this place a couple of years ago. Jess, Luke's nephew, was staying with him for awhile." She noticed his curious look at the way she had hesitated when mentioning Jess, and simply added, "Old boyfriend," as an explanation, even though he didn't ask.

It sometimes surprised him to think of her with boys. He knew she was with Logan now, and he had seen her with 'bag-boy' in high school. Sometimes he got caught in the trap of thinking of her as if her life between then and now hadn't really existed; or more, that it had been uneventful. In some ways it was because she was so much like the girl she had been back then. Older, more mature, but essentially the same.

Rory looked around the place. Luke dating her mother or not, she didn't come up here. In fact, the last time she had been in his place was when Jess was still here. She could remember making out with Jess on couch, his uncle coming up every five or ten minutes, full of ridiculous excuses to make sure they didn't take things to far, which of course they never had. Because back then she had been too pure and virtuous for something like that.

"Come on," she told him, standing up. "Leave your stuff here. I bet our food is ready by now. You've had his breakfast food, but really, all Luke's meals are amazing."

"To you, anything not cooked in your house is 'amazing'," Tristan replied with a smile.

She shrugged, but laughed. "Domesticated we are not, I will admit. When I finally move out of residence, I'll probably be living on Cheerios most days."

When she moved to walk around the table in front of the couch, she accidentally tripped over a book that was peaking out from under the table. Somehow, as she stumbled forward, she found herself in Tristan's arms as he steadied her. Blushing, she looked up at him as she was ready to apologize for her clumsiness, and steady herself.

But he was looking at her the exact same way he had that night at the pageant when he brushed the snow from her cheek. It was the same look as when he leaned towards her last night; when she thought he was going to kiss her. To her, it felt like it was burning in its intensity as he never looked away. And all she could do was stare wordlessly back at him, but made no move to pull away. She just straightened up slowly and let her hand run along his arm as she stared back at him, never taking her eyes away.

She knew it was insanity, but she willed him to lean towards her, to press his lips to hers. But even as she felt her breath quicken, even as she felt his muscles beneath her hands, she could hear the footsteps coming up the stairs, and reluctantly backed away. It was a sound she had become familiar with when she had been up here with Jess. It didn't matter if it was Luke, Lorelai, or even Lane, this wasn't the way to do things. She saw the look of surprise on his face as he snapped out of it, but understanding dawned as the door opened to reveal Logan.

"I got sick of waiting," he explained, walking into the apartment. "And when I came in, Luke sent me up here. Some fat woman tried to stop me, but I wanted to see what the hell was taking you guys."

Rory was surprised at how she could be annoyed with him, even when she had been the one about to betray their relationship. "I told you to come in," was all she replied though, circumspectly backing another step away from Tristan. "We ordered some lunch, and our food will be ready soon."

Logan raised his eyebrows, "You were going to leave me sitting there while you had a meal?"

"I told you to come in," she told him flippantly for the second time, trying not to care, as she walked past him to the door, and headed down the stairs. She didn't even wait to see if the two boys were following her.

She knew the whole diner was talking about them from the way the whole place quieted when she walked through the curtain. Normally she took the nature of this town in stride, amused by the need people had to be in each other's business; it was reassuring in its constancy. But now when she was upset, both by Logan's actions, and her confusion with her own feelings, she didn't have the patience for it. She barely refrained herself from yelling at the whole place, demanding to know what they wanted.

"Burger's done," she heard Luke's words from right beside her and took a calming breath.

"Thanks," she told him with a determined smile, as she picked up her burger and carried it over the table, studiously ignoring all the looks her way. She noticed Tristan pick up his fries as he and Logan walked over behind her, having been left behind in her wake.

"Good food?" Logan asked wryly as he slid into his chair, watching her take a huge bite of her burger.

"Yes," she snapped, taking another large bite, not really wanting to talk.

Luke walked up to the table, flipping open his order pad. "Want anything?" he asked Logan, barely concealing his hostility.

"An iced tea would be nice," he told Luke with little recognition, before turning back to Rory. Tristan could see Luke was barely refraining himself from reaching across the table and throwing the 'smug punk' (as he had referred to him the other night), out of the diner. He had to say he was a little surprised Logan wasn't a little more deferential, considering the circumstances under which the two first saw each other, and the fact he was practically Rory's stepfather.

"Thanks Luke," Tristan told him as he walked away, trying to smooth the waters, but only earning himself a bit of a glare from Logan.

"I'm going shopping with my mom this afternoon," was all Rory said between bites of her burger. "Boxing day sales, a tradition."

Logan looked surprised, "There's about 4 stores in this town Rory, it'll take you all of an hour if you browse all the merchandise."

She shot him a rather hostile look, that while maybe an overreaction mirrored her annoyance. "We're going to Hartford Logan. We'll be back by around dinner time when Luke's taking off from work. I think the plan is to pick the three of you up from here."

"The _three_ of us?" Logan's words sounded surprised.

She wiped her hands, having finished her burger in record time, not wanting to prolong this visit between the three of them when she was having conflicting, and hostile, emotions. "Yeah, entertain yourselves for the afternoon, I'm sure you can manage." And even if she weren't annoyed with Logan, or deciding whether or not there were feelings between her and Tristan, she still wouldn't invite either of them to come. This was mother-daughter time that they got all too rarely.

"My car's back at your place," Logan's tone was a little incredulous. "How are we going to get around?"

"You're the one who remarked how small this place is," Rory's words were deceptively mellow as she stood up, but there was an underlying tone of steel to them. "It's not a far walk. Or you can hang around here all day, your choice." She wanted to get out of there, not wanting to be around the two of them when she was so conflicted, and the whole town was essentially looking on.

She took off soon after that, hesitating, but still giving Logan a quick peck on the cheek before she walked out. Logan watched her walk out the door, heard the jingle, and turned back to Tristan. "What the hell?" was all he finally said, probably a reaction both to her actions the previous night and that day.

Tristan just shook his head and said nothing as he continued to munch on his fries. This wasn't something he was going to get in the middle of. Half Logan was missing because he was too dense, the other half because he had no clue, and Tristan certainly wasn't going to enlighten him.

As much as he had to keep reminding himself that _nothing had really happened_, he knew that after this afternoon there was no way that Rory was unaware of the attraction on his part. And, he was so close to believing that there was something on her side too. He knew he couldn't just be her friend, keep it all platonic when she was around. Tristan knew he had to stay away, stay apart, both for his own sanity and to not lead her on. And as much as he had to do that, it was going to be impossible until they got back to Yale. It would be hard, it might involve being cruel, but it was necessary.

"Girls," was all he offered up lamely, finishing his last fry as Luke set the iced tea down on the table for Logan, and hoped it wasn't spit in.

* * *

Ok, so there's chp 13. Not my best one (cause I enjoyed chp 12 a lot more when I read it after, that's how I judge success). Now, the next chapter is going to have a higher rating (how's that for a teaser?). It's going to be 'm' or whatever they're calling it now on the site. Just warning ahead of time, even though I'll put in the beginning of the chap, for those who would be too young or would be offended. Why it'll be 'm' I'm not going to say, cause that would ruin things. (first part of the chapter will be rated less, so if you want to read up to the mature point, I'll make a note where it will begin). 


	14. And It Comes Full Circle

**Title**: What Lies Within Us

Chp. 14 And It Comes Full Circle

**Disclaimer**: I don't own. Duh.

**Introduction:** I know I'm delusional….but Trory. Well, obviously not at first because that would be too easy, but I wanted to clarify. Basically set in the present, maybe like a year ahead, slightly altered to make things work. Oh, side note, and although this fic started before viewing of 'wedding bell blues', assume Rory and Logan got together in similar matter (they're just _**not** _having sex), and decided on some 'strings' eventually. Stuff is slightly diff, see rest of fic.

**Rating: TAKE NOTE: THE RATING FOR THE LAST HALF OF THE CHAPTER IS "_M_" ACCORDING TO NEW SITE RATING GUIDELINES. **You have been warned. It wasn't even going to be that 'm' when I first started writing, more euphemistic than anything. But it is definitely 'm' now. Do not read if you are too young, or are offended by adult material. If you want to read up to the more adult stuff, stop about where there is the line 'chalk it up to PMS or something', a fairly hard to miss statement. I hate to put in a warning cause it spoils what's coming up, but necessary when you're upping the rating.

**Authors Note: **Very glad to be back with internet access, yeah! The result is a very long chapter (a couple thousand more words than usual, I checked). I do appreciate reviews etc, especially since I am nervous about writing a chapter of this (ahem) nature. I like to know if people are enjoying the story, but I _suppose_ I can stomach criticism as well.

* * *

"You could come," Rory offered to her mother as Lorelai sat on the bed, watching her daughter get ready. 

As she made the scoffing noise only she was capable of, Lorelai replied, "Yeah, right. And then pigs will fly, hell will freeze over, and Luke won't wear a baseball cap to run the diner."

Rory shot her mother a look over her shoulder before she leaned closer to the mirror and began to apply her mascara, "The sarcasm was really necessary. I couldn't get the point that you don't want to go when you practically gagged at the suggestion when grandma offered."

Lorelai stood up and went over to rummage through her daughter's collection of various lipsticks as she said, "I can't believe you said yes to going, Rory. You're not a 60 yr old grandmother. You should be out enjoying yourself, clubbing or something, not attending a stuffy old party at the Gilmore mansion."

As Rory ran the mascara brush through her lashes one last time, she laughed a little, smudging her makeup. "This is Stars Hollow mom; the most happening place tonight for New Year's is Miss Patty's, where I know you and Luke are going. Not only is that not the most hip place, I don't think I'm going to subject Logan or Tristan to the depraved women of Stars Hollow at an event where alcohol will be involved." And Logan would look on deprecatingly for every minute of it. Her acceptance of the invitation to her grandparents had been in part because she knew it was the only type of evening she could provide where he would be happy.

"Ah, the love triangle of the season," Lorelai quipped as she picked out a subtle red lipstick and handed it to Rory who glared at her as she grabbed it. "How's that developing by the way?"

Rory didn't bother to respond to her mothers teasing as she turned back to the mirror. She had never told Lorelai about the 'almost kisses', as she now referred to them in her mind. She wasn't quite sure why she hadn't. Normally, she told her mother everything.

Maybe it was because she had never even talked to Tristan about what had almost happened. It wasn't because it was a topic that was hard to bring up, even though it was. What were you supposed to say when you weren't even sure what was going on? It was because she had never had the chance. Not because she was chicken, and making up excuses. It was because he had been subtly avoiding her, ever since that day she had taken him over to Luke's. Nothing overt, just that whenever he was with them he had made a point never to be alone with her; never given her a chance to bring up the topic she knew had to be explored. They hadn't even had a real conversation in days. She was trying to pretend that his avoidance didn't hurt, but she strongly believed that this was his way of letting her down gently, of trying to tell her there would be nothing between them.

Probably a large part of the reason she had avoided discussing the whole scenario with her mother was the conflict she felt inside. Not conflict over her feelings for Tristan; she had accepted those by now. It was more that, even if Tristan never returned the sentiment and they never got together, she didn't know if she could stay with Logan. There had always been something partially lacking in their relationship, but she had just chalked that up to the way adult relationships were supposed to be. There were things you didn't like about your partner, but relationships were about compromise. That sense of belonging with another person was just something you read about in romance novels, it had no place in real life.

Until now, it hadn't felt like settling, but she couldn't be sure anymore. Even if Tristan wasn't the love of her life she like all girls wanted, she knew there was something lacking in between her and Logan, and she was scared she was missing the opportunity to see if there was something more for her out there.

As she saw her Lorelai's reflection in the mirror behind her, she knew deep down she could trust her mother with anything she needed to talk about. But Lorelai was far from an unbiased observer. Maybe she was being unfair to her mother, assuming she couldn't be empathetic to Rory's turmoil, but she knew Lorelai's first instinct would be to tell her daughter to chuck Logan immediately.

"There's no triangle mom," she told her mother, carefully applying the lipstick Lorelai had handed her, knowing that maybe in all technicality that was the truth. If Tristan didn't want there to be more between them, the only triangle was between her, Logan, and her conflicted desires.

She knew her mother didn't believe a word of it, but Lorelai chose not to comment on the whopping lie that had come out Rory's mouth. "You probably made the right call not bringing Tristan at least to Miss Parry's tonight. She was telling me all about watching him help Luke carry some heavy boxes out of the diner yesterday. I think that woman has entertained many a fantasy about that boy in his uniform, and out of it."

Rory hoped her mother couldn't see the tell-tale blush that graced her cheeks as she knew that, especially lately, she had many of the same fantasies about Tristan herself. It was usually lying in bed at night that her thoughts drifted to him. Sometimes mundane, sometimes erotic, her thoughts were always a betrayal to her actual boyfriend. But she just made a non-committal sound at her mother's observation.

Lorelai gave up trying to draw her daughter into conversation. It had been harder and harder to do lately. "I'll see you before you leave," she told Rory, heading towards the door with a bit of a sigh. "I've got to get dressed myself before we head out. I have this nice slutty little number I bought for my birthday."

"We'll try and be home late," Rory told her mother dryly, causing Lorelai to laugh as she left the room.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a moment. She always felt like a doll when she applied makeup. She hated how pale she looked, and lipstick seemed to look garish in comparison. She never used to worry about things like that so much. She was comfortable in her own skin. But since she had begun to see Logan she obsessed about makeup and appearances a lot more. It wasn't fair to lay the blame at his door, he was good with the compliments. It was more the world she had to be a part of when she was with him. Sometimes it felt like the pressures of Friday-night dinners every day, except with more emphasis on looking beautiful. She styled her hair more than she ever had before; ponytails just didn't seem appropriate anymore. Sighing, she fiddled with the one perfect curl that had fallen in front of her face.

She took the necklace that Logan had given her from her jewellery box on her dresser. It was really only the second time she had the opportunity to wear it since he had given it to her, and there was no reason not to today. But as she tried to fasten it around her neck, it was awkward to try and clasp at the back.

Knowing it was too late to grab her mother, she stepped out of her room, knowing she looked a little ridiculous as she still had socks on with her dress as she had yet to change into her pantyhose and shoes. Tristan was sitting on the couch, already dressed in his tux and ready to go.

By his own design, it was the first time they had been alone together in nearly a week, and she stopped a little short, but had long since resigned herself to acting normal around him. "Is Logan around?" she asked, trying to make her voice sound casual.

"Bathroom," Tristan indicated the room beside her, and allowed a faint smirk to cross his face, "Styling his hair." She knew what that look meant; she knew exactly how long it took Logan to get the carefree spiked look he tended to go for.

"Do you mind?" she asked a little awkwardly, indicating the necklace she held in her hand.

He seemed to hesitate before he shook his head and got up to walk over to her. As he gently took the necklace from her outstretched hand, she turned and held up her hair so that he could fasten it around her neck. As he looped the necklace around her neck so that it rested gently on her skin before he fastened it, she had the passing thought that maybe even such a small act hadn't been a good idea. Normally she wasn't the sort of girl who got caught up in these sorts of feelings. Even her brief sexual history, while enjoyable, had never been very consuming. But even with this, she was aware of everything about him. She felt the slight brush of his hands over her neck and hair as he fiddled with the clasp. She was aware of the slight smell of aftershave, not masked by any cologne. And, for one brief moment, she even imagined she could feel his breath, warm on her neck and she closed her eyes.

But the whole exchange took probably not more than a second, and she could feel him back hurriedly away as soon as he was done. She didn't turn for a moment, not quite sure why the whole exchange made her eyes wet slightly with tears. She calmed herself, both for the sake of pride and for the sake of her makeup.

"Thank you," she told him with all the dignity she could muster before she headed back to her room to finish dressing, throwing what she hoped was a bland smile his way.

Tristan sat on the couch, staring at his hands, long after she had left the room. He could hear Logan fussing around in the bathroom, and he wished like hell Logan had been out here when Rory had come for help.

He knew that she was hurt by his avoidance of her over the past week, he wasn't blind. But, like the coward he was, he was taking the easy way out. If they had the opportunity to be alone, to really talk, she was going to bring up the subject of him nearly kissing her, he knew it. And after that afternoon at Luke's, there was no way they weren't both aware of what had almost happened. But, no matter her reaction to it, he didn't want to have that conversation, force the issue. Because he didn't think he had the acting skills to lie about his feelings to her. He couldn't clasp a fucking necklace on for her without being attracted. Being near to her, he had come so close to kissing the graceful curve of her neck as she had held her hair swept aside. He had snapped himself out of that urge barely in time to pull away.

Tristan wanted to avoid that conversation about the two of them like the plague, but he knew they couldn't go on the way that they were. She was being hurt by it all, the last thing he wanted. He wished he knew what she was feeling without really asking, but her thoughts were a mystery. He could only see the slight sheen of tears in her eyes as she walked away from him tonight. He wanted at least some of their friendship back, some sense of camaraderie, even if that was its own torture.

He was still sitting there by himself when she came back into the room, fully dressed for the evening. Even without looking, he could hear her footsteps pause before she came into the room to join him, and he looked up to greet her.

"You look beautiful," the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Rory wanted to be pleased by his words, but they just led to the turmoil she was feeling. She had convinced herself that he felt nothing for her, that whatever temporary attraction he had felt was passed. She had accepted that she was the one with the traitorous feelings, and her alone. But then when he looked at her like that, with his gaze intent, and called her beautiful in a low husky tone, she let herself believe for a moment that there was more there.

She closed her eyes for a moment before replying. "Tristan, I….."

Whatever she had been going to say was cut off by Logan emerging from the washroom, and just before she turned to face him, she could see the relief that shot across Tristan's face and she felt her heart clench inside. "Ready to go?" she asked Logan, handsome in his tux, knowing he would never notice the slight catch in her voice.

He nodded, making one last flick through his hair with his fingers. He looked perfectly pressed, perfectly made up. And when Logan looked at her, he smiled and held out his hand. As she got up to take his hand, it was at that point that she reminded herself that Logan was her boyfriend, and he cared for her. And if he wasn't perfect, who was? She had her own faults. She had no right to betray him. She cared about him, and he did about her in his own way.

Rory kissed him quickly on the lips, before moving to grab her jacket, as if to affirm her feelings and their relationship. She could tell he was a little startled as she had barely given him the time of day for the past week, but he didn't question it, simply handing Rory her gloves.

"We'll take my car," Rory told him with a smile, slipping her hand into his, not looking at Tristan. Her affectionate behaviour had nothing to do with making him jealous; it was for herself, trying to convince herself of the depth of her feelings for Logan and the fact that whatever she thought she felt for Tristan was a passing madness.

Tristan stood up and slipped into the formal coat he had borrowed from Luke. Despite being in the military for years, it hung loosely off him as Luke was a larger man. But it looked more appropriate than the casual jackets he owned now. "I'll take the backseat," was all he said shortly as he passed them, looking into each other's eyes, even though that was a foregone conclusion.

* * *

Emily opened the door to find the three of them standing there. "Rory!" her voice was happy as she briefly embraced her granddaughter as she led the three of them inside. 

"Emily," Logan's words were warm as he gave her hands a clasp, and she favoured him with a bright smile. Tristan, feeling superfluous, only nodded his greeting and looked on.

"Logan," she chided as she motioned a maid to take their coats. "We haven't seen you in a long time. You should come more often. Richard loves when you come to dinner." It was obvious that despite Lorelai's misgivings Logan was a welcome presence in the elder Gilmore house. "Now, come in. Your parents aren't here yet, but it's early. They were never ones to make an early appearance."

Logan smiled, "Fashionably late is the Huntzberger motto," he quipped easily, causing Emily to laugh.

"Come in," she motioned to the three of them after they were divested of their coats.

Rory knew her grandparents party, while as high society as the Huntzberger's Christmas affair, was not even in the same class. But she liked it that way. Without the very imposing house, and the fact she had been coming to her grandparents for years, she could almost feel comfortable at events here. Almost.

She never knew how they managed to find adequate room, but despite the many people sitting or mingling, they had found room for dancing in their house, and a string quartet was playing music for the guests to dance to. No DJ was adequate for Emily Gilmore, as she always refused to be outdone.

"I'll speak with you in a bit," Emily told Rory, as she saw a maid waving desperately across the room. "But it seems there's been some sort of crisis with the catering. Idiots. It's not even a full fledged dinner. It shouldn't be that hard. But somehow they've managed to screw up. You'll excuse me, dear?" And, as she walked away, she added, "The bar has been set up in the dining room."

Even though he knew this was not an event at which one got slammed, Tristan thought a drink was an excellent idea. "Can I get the two of you anything?" he asked the question, wanting to get away from the two of them.

"I'd have some white wine," Rory told him what she wanted, without even looking at him, her gaze on Logan. And he felt hurt a little even though he knew it was his own fault.

"Nothing for me, thanks," As Logan answered, Tristan watched him slip his arm around Rory's waist, and it was all he could do not to dart away quickly then and there. He forced his movements to be slow and not hasty.

"Scotch, and a white wine," he told the bartender as he walked up, and the man nodded and began to pour.

As he waited for his order, he heard his name being called, and he turned, half afraid to see his father there. But, it was only Richard, Rory's grandfather. "Hello sir," he held out his hand and shook the man's hand as he walked up. "Nice party." Even as he said the words he wanted to kick himself, knowing it sounded like a lame compliment.

But Richard just laughed and clapped his hand on Tristan's shoulder. "Emily's a wonder at these things. Couldn't be bothered myself, but I like the result all the same." He tossed his order of a gin and tonic to the bartender. "Having a good time?" he asked as he turned back to Tristan.

"Just got here," Tristan told him by way of explanation as the bartender placed the drinks on the bar, but knowing there was no way he would be enjoying the evening.

Richard was about to say something more, but a maid came up and whispered in his ear before pulling discretely away. He looked up, a little troubled, at Tristan. "I assume you came with Rory and Logan."

He nodded as he grabbed his drinks off the bar, "I was just heading back to them."

"Apparently Logan's father is on the phone," Richard explained, "And needs to talk to Logan immediately. I hope it's nothing too serious. Could you tell him he can take the call in my office?"

Tristan nodded his agreement, acknowledging Richard's request before he started to weave his way among the guests back to Logan and Rory. He stopped when he was a few feet away, watching them together. She was smiling as she let his hand cup her neck. She wasn't given to public displays of affection even before, and now he watched as Logan lowered his lips to hers in the middle of the crowd.

He forced himself to walk up to them, and tried to ignore the fact he was consciously aware of the feel of her skin as their hands brushed when she took the glass of wine from him. "I just ran into Richard," he directed his attention towards Logan, "He told me your father is on the phone, looking to speak to you immediately. He said to take the call in his office."

"I hope nothing's wrong," Rory's voice was concerned as he disengaged himself from her arms.

"I'll be right back," Logan promised, kissing her quickly before rushing off to take the phone call.

They stood in an awkward silence after he left, not sure what to say to one another. Unnoticing, Tristan downed his drink in a single gulp, leaving himself with nothing to fiddle with while they waited.

"I've enjoyed staying at Luke's, be sure to thank him and your mother again for me." Was all he could think of to say to her as he examined the ice in his glass. He had said as much before to all of them. Both because it was polite, and because it was the truth.

"It gave you enough opportunities to avoid me," he could hear the bitterness in her voice as his head snapped up. But before he could come up with a believable enough denial, Logan walked back up to them.

"I have to go," he told Rory, and his voice was grim.

"What's wrong?" she asked, placing a hand on his arm.

"Nothing really," he explained with a sigh. "It's my grandfather. He collapsed walking again." At Rory's exclamation of horror, he added quickly, "No, it's not a very large deal. He's just a stubborn old man who refuses to use a cane or walker, and has a tendency to lose his balance at times. He's fine, we know he's fine, he knows he's fine, but my mother has a tendency to believe he's dying every time. She summons doctors, but they all the same thing, it's just old age. However, every time she thinks he's dying, and she summons the family to his bedside."

"Still," Rory replied, looking for somewhere to put her drink, "I should go with you."

He shook his head, and took her hand, "Really Rory, don't. Stay, enjoy your grandparent's party. I'll be back at your mother's before the morning. It'll just take a couple of hours for a veritable team of doctors to assure my mother that my grandfather is not going to die, and will likely outlive us all."

"If you're sure…." She looked undecided.

"I am." He told her positively, kissing her quickly. "Don't worry about it. I'll be careful not to wake you all up when I get back."

They watched him weave his way to the door, and Tristan could see the exact point that Rory realized that she was stuck with him for the night. At least he could only assume it was that that put the look of dismay on her face, but he couldn't be sure.

Rory knew this was probably the worst thing that could happen that evening. She was torn between the hurt she had been nursing earlier at Tristan's avoidance, and the anger at him she was allowing to fester. But she convinced herself she could get past it, as it was obviously what he wanted. Besides, she was going to be focused on Logan now. He deserved that much. "Let's find my grandfather," she told him, forcing her tone to be pleasant. "I haven't seen him yet."

* * *

It hadn't even reached the stroke of midnight yet when Tristan found himself standing beside Rory against a side wall, not speaking. As there wasn't an abundance of chairs, they had long since surrendered any hope of sitting to the older members of the crowd which made up the majority. 

They had made polite chit-chat for most of the evening, never delving beyond that. Tristan convinced himself this was a good thing. They could co-exist without hurt and animosity. But he knew that Rory was hiding her underlying feelings well; her comments earlier had proved she wasn't as okay with him as she was pretending to be now. "The musicians are good." He finally said to fill the silence, sipping at the drink he held in his hands.

He knew one of them had made that observation already, but she simply responded, "Yes, they are good," in a distant voice, with the polite smile on her face that he had come to despise over the course of the evening.

Tristan watched as Emily walked up to them. "Having a good time?" she asked, putting an arm around Rory, and they both nodded, plastic smiles affixed to their faces.

"You should dance," she motioned towards the area where couples were moving to the music. "It can't be exciting standing here with nothing to do."

"We're fine," Rory protested firmly, resisting her grandmother's slight nudging towards Tristan. She knew Emily saw no problem in the two of them dancing. They were just two young people with nothing better to do.

"Really Mrs. Gilmore, we're fine," Tristan echoed Rory's words.

"Nonsense," Emily told them as she practically shoved the two of them together and prodded them towards the dancing area. "This may not be that hip-hop stuff that's popular nowadays, but you both are capable of more than break dancing. Now come on, even a waltz has to be preferable to standing off in the corner of the room."

Rory went out onto the dance floor with Tristan, only as a means to appease your grandmother. "One dance," he wasn't sure if her words were supposed to be as menacing as they sounded when she placed her hand in his.

They began to move to the music, in synch with one another. He never would have admitted it to anyone he knew, but Tristan had always felt more comfortable with this type of dancing than the type one did in clubs. The waltz had structure, and steps; he had never had the sense of rhythm to dance of his own accord. As a teenager he had done some good grinding dances with girls, but that was all he could manage.

He could feel the tension that was practically vibrating through Rory as they danced. She refused to relax even an iota, keeping herself perfectly rigid in his arms as they moved around the floor. The distance between them never decreased an inch.

Unfairly to her, he increased the pressure slightly on the hand that rested in the small of her back, forcing her to move a little closer. He wanted to close his eyes and pretend this was something more than it was, but he could still feel her, rigid and unflexing. But he was surprised a moment later when she let herself get closer, felt her relax, and felt their legs brush over and over as they moved around the dance floor. As far as encounters went, it was fairly platonic, but he could feel it stir him as any of the most erotic embraces he had ever had. They were so close her face was almost brushing his chest.

When the music stopped suddenly, he closed his eyes momentarily to fight the disappointment, but she took only a step back, keeping them in close proximity. Even as one of the musicians spoke into the microphone to announce the countdown to midnight, and waiters appeared around the room, handing out flutes of champagne, Tristan and Rory never took their eyes from each other, even as they grabbed two from the tray.

"Ten……….!" He could see the conflict crossing her face as she stared at him. He knew that he was toying with her emotions, but when they were dancing he hadn't been able to stop himself from pulling her closer.

"Five………!" Rory couldn't decide if she wanted midnight to come quickly, or not at all. Despite her resolve of the entire evening, she couldn't help but desire with all that was in her that he would kiss her when it struck midnight. She didn't care if it was advised or not, she just wanted it.

"Happy New Year!"

When the words rang out, signalling the striking of midnight, Tristan knew that despite the desire coursing through him he would have backed away like he had done so many times before. But he got carried away in the moment as couples embraced around him, and she looked him at him with unblinking eyes. So, as the strains of Auld Lang Syne broke out around them, he took the glass of champagne from her hands, set it on the floor with his, and leaned forward towards her.

He let his lips brush over hers gently a couple times before deepening the kiss. He could feel her hands reach up hesitantly, and entwine in his hair. He was aware of every aspect of the moment, from the feel of the skin of her cheek beneath his hand, to the multitude of sounds in the background. The kiss didn't block out the world around them, it sharpened it. And there, in the middle of her grandparent's house, as guests milled around them, singing along to the traditional song and giving good wishes to one another, he kissed Rory Gilmore as if he were dying. And she kissed him back with all she was worth. At that point he learned any kiss he ever had could not compare to the sensations when she was in his arms.

He knew time had passed, possibly too much, when she gently pushed herself back from him, breathing heavily. She didn't say anything, just let her forehead rest against his, and was grateful only a few busybodies had taken notice of them. Tristan wanted to say something, to brush it off as the traditional New Year's kiss, but he knew any such attempt would be foolish. Neither of them was that stupid. He expected her to say something, to at the very least berate him for doing what he had, and for doing it here, but she didn't. "Let's say goodbye to my grandparents," was all she told him quietly, but she didn't release his hand as they turned to go.

* * *

The ride back to Stars Hollow was silent save for the radio station playing over the speakers in her car. Tristan didn't know what he should say, what would make this go away. He kept sneaking glances over at Rory, watching her in the moonlight as she drove. But she never looked his way, just kept staring straight ahead at the road, not saying anything. He was surprised she hadn't used this opportunity to talk. In the passengers seat of the car he had no escape. 

When they were finally driving down the main street towards Luke's, the town was silent around them. As the population of the town wasn't exactly youthful, celebrations of the New Year had ended very shortly after midnight. Even the gathering at Miss Patty's had broken up. There was nobody on the streets as they drove by. Rory pulled up in front of Luke's and set the car into park.

Tristan was about to say something flip and get out of the car, already making plans about how he would hitchhike back to Yale in the morning and spend the next many years avoiding Rory and Logan. But, Rory was already unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car, and he knew she was planning on coming in to Luke's with him.

Rory didn't even bother plugging the meter as they both exited the car, she knew in Stars Hollow nobody would be checking at this time of night, holiday or not. And the five dollar parking tickets they handed out weren't as much of a deterrent as Taylor thought they were. She stood behind Tristan, her hands in the pocket of her jacket to ward them off from the chill. She had forgotten her gloves at her grandparents. Her mind at been on other things, to say the least.

She followed Tristan into Luke's, just standing there watching as he locked the door behind them, and quickly walked to the back to disarm the alarm. He came out quickly, but stopped behind the counter, not looking at her, and not making any motion to go upstairs. So, they would have to do this here.

"We need to talk about this…us," was all she chose to say, her words soft, as she simply walked over and sat down on a stool at the counter.

She watched as he refused to look at her, even now. And she knew she would be doing most of the talking. "Tonight….the other nights….but tonight…we can't just ignore it happened."

"Why not?" she could hear the slight desperation in his voice as Tristan gave a rather bitter laugh. He still stood rather behind the counter, not coming any closer to her.

She closed her eyes as if in response to the tone in his voice. Taken like that, she would go back to her original assumption that he felt nothing for her, that he had just been trying to ease her down gently by avoiding her, but after that kiss tonight she knew he wasn't as indifferent as all that. She knew that passion could be faked, kisses weren't always honest, but she didn't think she was deluding herself in believing something real had passed between them. So, she continued on determinedly, "We kissed Tristan, and even I know that wasn't some friendly New Year's peck. It was more than that, and even you can't pretend otherwise."

"Logan's my friend Rory," Tristan gave that as his excuse, knowing it was only a very small part of why he was trying to avoid a relationship with her, but hoping she would take it at face value. "It's not hard. We just never mention tonight again, and pretend it never happened."

Rory nodded slowly, knowing with that she was doing tonight she was betraying a good guy. Maybe he wasn't the one she was meant to be with, but Logan wasn't a bad person. It had just become all too clear tonight that he wasn't the one for her. "We could," she let the words out softly, then lifted her head and looked directly at him, "But I'm not sure that I want to."

Tristan knew that he had done both of them a disservice by sticking around in her life at all. As he lifted his head, and locked eyes with her, he knew that she had definite feelings for him, which thrilled him even as it was what he wanted to avoid. "Rory….." he let the words trail off softly and just shook his head.

He watched as she took a shaky breath. She seemed to gather courage before she spoke again, and uttered the words that he knew he desperately wanted to hear, even if he tried to discourage them. "I have feelings for you Tristan; this isn't just some passing attraction, it's more than that on my part. I didn't plan on this happening, I was with Logan. But stuff like this can't be planned. I care for Logan, I always will, but I care for you one hell of a lot more."

She looked at him expectantly, wanting him to say something, but he just stood silently, so she continued, "After those few times you had almost kissed me, but then avoided me, I had convinced myself that you felt nothing, it had just been a momentary lapse in judgement for you. But don't tell me that the kiss tonight meant nothing. It had to, it can't just all have been on my part. It had to." She repeated that refrain again, trying to reassure herself.

Tristan wanted to believe that he was strong, but that image had been shot all too hell in the past couple days. He had given in to so many urges that should have been ignored, so many desires that he shouldn't even have had. And as he watched tears fill her eyes when he didn't respond to her declaration, he knew that he was way too weak, that when presented with direct temptation he couldn't walk away.

Rory just nodded, starting to cry softly, lowering her eyes from his when he still said nothing. "I see," she had to force the words out past her constricted throat. "It's okay, don't worry. I should understand this sort of thing by now, I'm old enough. A kiss doesn't mean something to everyone this way it does to me. It doesn't promise anything. Forget I said anything. Chalk it up to PMS or whatever you want to. We'll do what you want, forget tonight ever happened. You don't have to jeopardize your friendship with Logan over me."

And as a tear spilled over onto her cheek, she felt Tristan's hand, gentle but firm upon her face, and she looked up at him. "It meant something to me too," the words were husky, spoken as if they were difficult to say, but she didn't care, and he was leaning forward to kiss her as she sat on the stool.

The kiss was different from the one at the party. She had thought that was amazing, but this took it to a different level. It made her see how restrained they had been there. Despite the tears that still wet her face, this felt like nothing she had never shared with a boy. She stood up, wrapping her arms around his neck. No kiss had ever made her feel this good, this alive before. All she wanted to do was get closer to him, as close as two people could get. She pressed against him, felt his hands threading through her hair as his tongue slid into her mouth. She wanted to moan at the sensations he evoked in her.

Tristan knew that this was crazy, but he couldn't stop, didn't want to stop. This felt to right, like everything he ever wanted was being handed to him in one package. And she was more than a willing participant, returning his kisses eagerly, and she willingly acquiesced when he slid her jacket from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. She returned the favour, quickly divesting him of the large jacket he had borrowed from Luke. He didn't know how far tonight was going, knew simply taking off their jackets meant nothing, but he was getting carried away in the moment.

He felt a hint of surprise run through him when she broke away, breathing heavily, to slide the jacket of his tux over his arms. Not caring, he let it too fall to the floor, joining the overcoat there. He quickly tore off the little bowtie that went with the tux, feeling as if it were choking him. Tristan could only watch as she slid off the little jacket that went over her dress.

And as she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him again, he lifted her up onto the counter so they were at a more equal height. He pulled away slightly to look into her eyes, as they looked straight at him, as if to reassure himself that this was really happening, it wasn't some fantasy. But she wouldn't let him back away, just put her hand to the back of his head and drew him closer.

Rory felt his hand cup her right breast and gently stroke it, and even though it was still over her dress she felt the arousal shoot right through her. This was the passion she had never really felt before. She had enjoyed sex with Dean; they were two healthy young adults, it was natural. But it had been nothing more than the physical, the chemical. There wasn't this overwhelming passion that threatened to consume her. Logan had never instilled the temptation in her that she got from a single kiss with Tristan. This didn't feel wrong, it didn't feel illicit. It felt right in more ways than she could count. As his kiss trailed down from her neck, and he pushed aside the strap of her dress and her bra to kiss her shoulder, she could only revel in the feelings and arch her neck for greater access.

But it was as his hand slid up her still pantyhose-covered leg, under the skirt of her dress, and rested on her upper thigh, causing her to lean back and knock off the donut tray, that some sensible thoughts broke through, and she pushed him away slightly, saying "Tristan…wait."

He stopped instantaneously. Both of them had said nothing up until this point, scared to break the spell that was between them. But even with her words he made no move to back away, or deny her. She had stopped him only because she had realized where they were. On the counter, in Luke's Diner, visible to the outside world through the windows that were uncovered. It didn't matter if it was the middle of the night, they couldn't do this here. And, as he looked around, his hair mussed from her hands, Tristan realized the same thing.

He started to step away then and she grabbed his hand. "Let me stay the night, with you," she looked directly into his eyes as she said it, not wanting there to be any misunderstanding with this, what she wanted. She wanted it all, right now, she didn't want to wait. Wanted simply to surrender to all he was evoking in her. And she smiled as he simply nodded and gathered their clothes from the ground around them.

She followed him up the stairs, not saying anything further. He unlocked the door to Luke's apartment, and simply dropped their stuff by the door when he got inside. She looked at him for a moment, about to turn shy, scared the moment was lost, but she barely had time to breathe before he took the one step needed to be beside her, kissing her, and she was again swept away by her feelings for him.

Rory could feel his hand reach behind her back to slowly slide down the zipper of her dress, but she didn't pull away, just moved closer to make it easier for him. And when he pulled away slightly to let her dress drop to the floor, she forced herself not to be self-conscious. Sex with Dean had been done beneath the covers, neither one of them really seeing the other naked. Logan had never seen her in anything less than her bra. She was tempted to dive onto the bed, but then she saw him looking at her, saw the arrested expression on his face, and suddenly she felt more beautiful than she ever had before.

"You are amazing," Tristan told her assuredly as he stepped closer to her again. And she was. Her beauty was just part of the package. And his comment made her blush in a way that even her standing there in nothing but her underwear hadn't been able to do. He watched as she quickly slipped off the pantyhose that she had worn, the shear smoky things fluttering away as she let them go. And then she was in nothing but the matching black lace bra and panties she had worn beneath her dress.

As he reached for her, she simply began to unbutton the shirt he wore, and as she slid it from his shoulders he moved to extinguish the lights in the apartment. But even as he reached for the light switch, she stopped him. "I want to see you too," she admonished gently, sliding the shirt completely off him.

Helplessly, he did nothing but let her. The scars she had seen already, but there was no need to make them so obvious in the light that fell on him. The one time he had slept with a girl since his tour of duty, she had been repelled by them, and they weren't pretty. He was faced with the sight of them in the mirror every day. He didn't want to see the look of repulsion on Rory's face when his chest and back were bared before her, didn't want to feel her hesitate to touch him anymore.

The sight of his scars again shook Rory as they had the first time she had seen them. The secrets that had caused problems between them before. But now wasn't the time for explanations or recriminations. She could see him close his eyes as she slid his shirt off, and clench as if expecting some attack. As the shirt fell, forgotten, to the ground, she let her hand run over his chest.

"Did you think I would be shocked and repulsed?" she asked softly, pressing soft kisses to the mostly healed wounds on his chest even as she felt her eyes fill with tears. "All I care about is that you were hurt, badly, and that hurts me too. They're a part of who you are now, I'm not going to back away from you because of them." And she walked around the walk of him and let her lips trail softly over the scar on his back as well. "Part of the kiss and make it better philosophy," she tried to make her words light as she walked back around in front of him while he still held motionless. She hesitated, wondering if it were too sappy, but raised herself up on her toes and pressed her lips to his forehead as well.

When he kissed her again it was almost violent in its intensity. Not wanting to break apart, even for a moment, she unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the floor even as they kissed. And he obligingly stepped out of them and kicked them aside, standing there in nothing but his boxers. They continued to kiss and it was as if they were hesitating, each unsure if they should be the first one to divest the other of their underwear.

He pressed her firmly against the wall, and she was almost grateful for the support when he began to kiss down her neck towards her breasts. She was amazed by how good it felt when he unhooked her bra and tossed it aside, letting his lips trail over her right breast, and then took it in his mouth. Nobody had ever done that to her before. This wasn't some quiet coupling that was almost innocent in its lack of eroticism. This wasn't dirty, but it was all-consuming.

"Bed," she managed to choke out the word, even as she let out a moan. She had always assumed she wasn't one of those overly passionate people. She was never one for the sexy sounds in bed.

Rory considered it shallow, but she was thrilled with his strength when he picked her up and carried her over to the bed, laying her down before he came over her."You can't understand how much I want you right now," the words were truthful as he hooked his finger gently in her panties and slid them down her legs, watching her intently has he did so. Rory did blush at being so open to his gaze, lying there on the blankets. But she simply slid his boxers down so they were both exposed to each other.

As his hand slid up her inner thigh she knew what his intent was. It was impossible not to. She forced herself to relax, as she had never been all the comfortable with this. But when he slid one finger inside her, relaxation become impossible; not because she was nervous, but because it felt so good. And as he stroked gently, she made a guttural sound in the back of her throat and fell back against the pillows.

Tristan loved watching how she responded to him, to his touch. Even with all the attraction he had felt for her, both in high school and now, he had never pictured her so responsive. Maybe he was biased, maybe it was the heat of the moment, but he wouldn't change her reactions for any other response. He slipped another finger inside her, watching her arch up and gasp. Almost regretfully he pulled his hand from her, earning a sound of disappointment from her as he withdrew. Even if it was selfish of him, he wanted the first time he brought her to climax to be with him inside her.

She was surprised when he grabbed a condom out of the drawer beside the bed. Surprised that she hadn't thought more about it. She was on the pill, but she wasn't about to have sex without protection. But she was also surprised he had been expecting something to happen.

"It's Luke's, not mine," he explained a little ruefully when she looked pointedly at the drawer.

"Oh……ewww," Rory replied when the reality of that set in. Condoms Luke used with her mother.

Tristan arched his eyebrows even as he held up the foil package in his fingers. "Try not to let it kill the mood," he told her dryly, scared her thoughts would kill her arousal.

But as Rory looked at Tristan, obviously aroused, her mother and Luke were the farthest things from her mind. "Fat chance," she replied in what she hoped was a sensual tone, knowing she surprised him a little when she grabbed the condom from his hand. She struggled a little with the wrapping, but got it open and slid it slowly on him, almost teasing him as she went. When she was done she was tempted to slide herself on top of him, but that was one bridge she wasn't ready to cross just yet. It sounded crass even in her mind, but she wasn't experienced in anything but the standard missionary position. She didn't want to ruin the moment by doing something wrong. She knew Tristan didn't understand the reasons why, but he came over her even as she lay back.

When he slid inside her she gasped. It had been a long time since she had slept with anyone. She felt him pause for a moment before pulling out and sliding back in. And so it went, the pace quickening, until she thought she couldn't take the sensations anymore. And, for the first time, she felt herself sob out his name as she climaxed around him. Before, she had equated orgasms with a sensation like the popping of a cork, not this mind-numbing release of pressure. Weak, and happy beyond all reason, she opened her eyes and looked at him, smiling even as she felt his muscles bunch beneath her hands. And as if that was all he needed, he climaxed, and collapsed upon her.

She didn't mind the extra weight of him; it felt nice and she had no urge for him to roll away. Almost absent-mindedly she stroked his back as they lay there, not wanting to break any contact with him. She could feel his warm breath in her ear and she let her hand slide up to his hair.

"That was amazing," it seemed a shame to break the moment, but she heard the words slip out of their own volition. She could hear the awe in her voice, and was a little ashamed by it. Tristan had slept with hordes of girls, this was nothing new to him. It was obviously where he had gotten his extensive knowledge of foreplay.

She felt some regret as he pulled out of her, and away, but she knew it wasn't safe to stay intertwined like that. She lay on her side, and propped her head up on her elbow as he divested himself of the condom. She wanted to tell him he was beautiful, but that would be embarrassing for both of them, so she just kept silent and smiled as he came closer to her, not wanting to sound gushing at the sex which had been life-altering for her.

Tristan smoothed back the hair from her face, and she was shocked at how sweaty they had gotten with the exchange. "Lie with me," she reached her hand to him, not wanting this time to end just yet.

He obliged, but instead of lying to face her like he knew she wanted, he wrapped his arms around her instead, her back to his front, resting his chin on the top of her head. It was easiest to talk this way sometimes, when the other couldn't see you. But he was silent for awhile, for so long that Rory began to doze waiting for him to speak. "Rory," the words finally came, hesitantly. "I just wanted to you know, it was never…..I never…..it was amazing for me too." And since he hadn't wanted to face her, he missed the way her face lit up at his words.

They fell asleep in that position together, comfortable with one another. Rory with a large smile upon her face, even as she drifted into sleep, and Tristan feeling the most profound sense of peace and contentment he had felt in his life as he held her. "I think I might love you," he didn't speak the words until her breathing was soft and even beside him, hugging her closer even as he too succumbed to sleep.

* * *

I think I need a cigarette now. 

Anyway, **next chapter** (just like scenes from the next fresh Gilmore Girls): Everything about Tristan that you, and Rory, have wondered about.


	15. It All Comes Out

**Title**: What Lies Within Us

Chp. 15 It All Comes Out

**Disclaimer**: I don't own. Duh.

**Introduction:** I know I'm delusional….but Trory. Well, obviously not at first because that would be too easy, but I wanted to clarify. Basically set in the present, maybe like a year ahead, slightly altered to make things work. Oh, side note, and although this fic started before viewing of 'wedding bell blues', assume Rory and Logan got together in similar matter (they're just **not** having sex), and decided on some 'strings' eventually. Stuff is slightly diff, see rest of fic.

**Rating:** Pg-14. That's too be safe. Pg-13 movies nowadays have much worse. But slightly upped ratings due to discussion of violent content, adult situations, and a couple bad words.

**Authors Note:** I have good excuses for why it took so long, really I do, but you don't want to hear them, you just want me to get on with the fic. Don't worry, I didn't forget about it.

Note: I am not in the military, nor am I a world events expert. Any inconsistencies, I apologize.

For those of you who stopped because of age and/or delicate sensibilities: they slept together. That's the gist of it.

* * *

It was dark around her when Rory opened her eyes. The sun had yet to rise. As she awoke, the confusion at her surroundings was only momentary. It was impossible not to remember the night before. Not with Tristan's arms still around her, even in sleep. Losing her virginity to Dean hadn't felt half as life-altering as the past night had. With him still fast asleep she could enjoy the peaceful feeling of being in his arms.

The room was lit only by the moonlight coming in the window. They hadn't bothered to turn on any lights in their haste. Rory could see the snow falling gently outside, and the sight comforted her. She lay still for a moment, savouring Tristan's breath warm upon her neck as she lay in his arms. Idly, she traced her finger over the expanse of his arm, the only body part exposed to her without moving.

Their clothes were strewn rather haphazardly throughout the small apartment, starting with the pile they had left by the door. Rory couldn't stop smiling as she savoured the memories. Somehow she had always assumed she would be embarrassed by the type of things she had done with him, but she didn't feel any recriminations or doubts thinking back. This had been right. This had been real.

She wanted to lay there forever in his arms, wait until he woke and kiss him gently. Watch the awakening in his eyes as he remembered. But thoughts of the real world intruded, and as she glanced over at Luke's alarm clock, watching it turn to 4:12AM, she knew that was a dream that would have to wait for another day.

Carefully, she lifted his arm from around her, fairly surprised that he didn't awaken considering how tightly he had been around her. She allowed herself the luxury of watching him in sleep for a moment, wishing she were back in bed with him. He looked relaxed, soft in a way she had never seen him be. He wore a slight smile on his face, and she permitted herself the fantasy that it was all because of her. She fiddled with a stray part of his hair, but regretfully stepped away before she woke him.

It was then that she could hear the quiet ring of her cell phone. She knew it was hers; Tristan didn't have one. It was barely audible as she knew it was tucked in the pocket of her jacket. Quickly she went for it, nearly tripping over the debris they had left around in her haste to get to it before it woke Tristan. He would awake in a few hours as it was, he deserved his sleep.

"Hello?" her soft whisper was fairly breathless as she answered the phone without wasting time checking the call display.

She could hear hesitation on the other end, before. "Rory?"

"Hi mom," she was careful to keep her voice just below a whisper as she spoke into the phone. She didn't know what to say, how to explain, what excuse she could give for not being at home by dawn. "Sorry I didn't call." That sounded lame even out of her mouth, but it was too late to take it back.

"So," Lorelai began, her voice seemingly loud in contrast to the quiet in the apartment. "Imagine the surprise I had when not only was I without houseguests until 4 in the morning, but my daughters boyfriend shows up, sans daughter."

Rory shut her eyes, knowing that she hadn't even thought of Logan in all this. At least she hadn't thought of Logan in the immediate future. He didn't deserve to find out that way, simply by her not coming home. "Tell him I spent the night at Grandma and Grandpa's because the party ran so late." She didn't bother to add the part that it would be a blatant lie.

"I did," Lorelai replied quietly. "Presumptuous, I know, but I took the chance that there was some explanation besides you lying dead on the side of the road, and covered your tracks." She hesitated. "You didn't spend the night at the Gilmore mansion, did you Rory?" The question was almost rhetorical.

There was a long pause before Rory's answer. She considered lying, saying that she was sleeping in her room at her grandparents house, but that would only complicate the issue, and this was her mother who could see through her lies a mile away. "No, I didn't," she answered simply, her eyes straying to Tristan's still sleeping figure on the bed.

She could almost hear Lorelai processing the information on the other end before her breath caught a little, and she asked, "This wouldn't have to do with a certain someone who's name begins with 'Tris' and ends in 'stan' would it?"

"It would have a lot to do with it," Rory replied cryptically, acknowledging her mothers perceptiveness. She waited for the recriminations that she was sure were forthcoming, just as they had been after Dean. She was in a committed relationship; she just had sex with someone she wasn't even dating. But this didn't feel wrong, or sordid. It felt so right, so amazing, and she waited for her mother to kill the moment.

"You're talking to Logan tomorrow?" was all Lorelai asked simply, surprising Rory.

"Yes, I am," she didn't even pretend to misunderstand what her mother was asking. She was breaking up with Logan tomorrow. She wouldn't be stringing him along while she got involved with someone else on the side. It would be painful, she didn't want to hurt him, but it was necessary.

"Ok then," Lorelai let the words out on a sigh. "You can give me all the details when you get home. Which, I recommend, will be as early as it can be and still maintain the illusion you're getting home from my parents."

Rory felt guilt then. Not for cheating on Logan, that was it's own separate emotion. It was guilt that she hadn't confided in her mother, shared what she was feeling. As much as she was her mother, and wanted the best for Rory, she was her best friend above all else. She hadn't given her mother enough credit, and kept all her turmoil from her. All Lorelai had known was what she had perceived in Rory's actions. This eventuality wasn't out of the blue, and she had kept all her conflicting feelings from her mother when she knew Lorelai would have been there for her. "We'll talk when I get home," she promised, knowing it was the truth. She wanted back what she used to have with her mother, discussing the details of their lives.

"I love you," was all Lorelai told her, before she hung up.

Rory snapped shut her cell phone and placed it back in the pocket of her jacket. As she straightened, she realized that she was still naked; she was more aware that she was standing there in nothing but the necklace that Logan had given her for Christmas as she felt it with her fingers. Fighting guilt, she fiddled with the clasp and removed it from her neck and dropped it too into the pocket of her jacket. Out of sight, out of mind.

She didn't regret for one moment being together with Tristan. But that didn't bring her peace with hurting Logan. He wasn't a bad guy. He cared for her in his own way. She might have even been happy with him if she had never discovered all it was that she was missing. It was easy to banish him from her mind, but it didn't change the fact that when she went home she would have to face him and end it, all with the knowledge that she had slept with someone else while they were together.

She knew she had a few hours before she had to be home, thanks to her mother covering for her, so she slipped back beneath the covers with Tristan, resting her head on his shoulder. Even in sleep, his arm came up to wrap around her, and she snuggled closer, absorbing his warmth in the cold room.

It seemed hours later before he woke, but in real time it had been only minutes. She knew he wasn't asleep when his breathing rhythm changed, and he began to stir beneath her. As he opened his eyes, she rolled over so that she faced him and rested her chin in her arms on his chest. She couldn't take her eyes off him. The feeling was almost giddy. She had never thought that she would ever be capable of these emotions.

Her face was the first thing that crossed Tristan's vision when he opened his eyes. As much as the feeling of happiness floored him, he should have been expecting it. Just as he should have been expecting the guilt and regret that came along with her being in his bed this morning. With him. But he could see the happiness on her face that she didn't have the desire or the guile to hide, and he felt his heart clench.

"Hey," Rory said softly with a smile as she leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. She didn't see the hesitant look that crossed his face as they kissed. It didn't cross her mind that there was any reason he wasn't as happy as she was this morning.

Tristan gave what he hoped was a convincing smile. This was his worst nightmare and his favourite dream all rolled into one. He hadn't faked anything with her the previous night, and had opened himself up to her in a way he never had with anyone. He loved her, he knew it. But now it all came back to him, the reasons he had tried to avoid this eventuality.

But Rory was gently stroking her hand up and down his hard stomach as she began to speak again. "I have to go soon," she looked back up at him even as her hand came to rest on his chest. Her smile was luminous. "You can't understand how much I want to stay here with you like this, but I have to get back home."

"Rory…." He began, but in his hesitancy the opportunity was lost as she slid from beneath the covers.

"Let's grab some breakfast before I head back," he watched as she stood in her nakedness as she got out of the bed. He could tell she was tempted to wrap a sheet around herself, but steeled herself to walk calmly to her dress lying on the floor, and slip it on. It was wrinkled from lying on the floor all night, a casualty of their haste. She continued with a smile. "I can't cook eggs like Luke's or anything, but he always has some pretty good donuts." She gave thanks that Luke wouldn't be there that morning as he stayed closed for New Year's Day.

He watched her, wanting to let himself slip into the bliss of the moment. He wanted to be with her, for good. He wanted to believe that last night could go farther than just being a momentary slip on his part. Tristan didn't want to go back to will power and self-denial. But as much as it may kill him to hurt her, she didn't deserve to be stuck in a relationship with him. Not with what he had essentially was now.

"Hey," her voice was gentle as she noticed the look on his face. She was oblivious in so many aspects of life, but Rory wasn't stupid. She could tell there was something more there than post-coital bliss. It maybe had something to do with the fact that he looked like he was about to break to pieces. "It's not as bad as all that. See? I'm not running away crying." It was a half joke, a reference to their rather disastrous kiss in high school, but she was concerned as she looked at him and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Why do you have to get home so fast?" His voice sounded scratchy, but he was trying to postpone the inevitable moment when he would wipe the smile from her face.

She gave him a look that suggested he was an idiot. "It's sort of been noticed that I didn't come home last night. By mom, and by Logan when he got back. Mom called."

Logan. Another reason for guilt he had conveniently forgot about until now. "Where does he think you are right now?" he asked quietly, noticing how little concern she was showing that her boyfriend had noticed she didn't come home last night.

"Mom told him I was staying at my grandparents," she took his hand even as she said it. "It wasn't that I am ashamed of being with you Tristan, that's so far from the truth. Last night was the best night of my life, you know that. It's just, Logan's not a bad guy, he doesn't deserve it to end like this for him, his girlfriend just not coming home one night to be with another guy. The only thing worse would be if he had walked in on us."

It sucked, this feeling in his chest. She was all worried about his sensibilities, scared he would think she was wanting to hide what was between them. All her concern was for him. He wasn't fragile, but she sought to protect him. He wanted nothing more to wrap his arms around her, and pull her down to him, but he desperately resisted.

She continued on, playing absent-mindedly with his hand, letting her fingers slip between his. "That's why I have to get home. I have to end it with Logan; I owe him a face to face explanation, as hard as it will be." She looked him at him with a half-smile. "So as much fun as that is going to be, I'm really hoping you'll be here for me afterwards."

And there it was, all out in the open. He don't know why he'd harboured the faint delusion that she would wake up this morning, go back to Logan, and put this behind her. She was going to break up with her boyfriend, to be with him. With her declarations last night, he had known it was coming. From the second he took her in his arms, he had known that she believed he was committing to be with her. And he had let himself get swept away in it all; hadn't thought past the night. Didn't consider the morning after. He had just wanted to be with her so bad he had let that override his common sense. It wasn't a lust for sex, it had been a desire to be with her in every way possible, and get as close as she would let him.

"Don't." The word came out scratchy, sounding like he was being strangled as he said it. He tried it again, more firmly, trying to mean it. "Don't."

Tristan could see from the look on her face that she didn't understand. How could she, she had no clue. But Rory tried to keep her words light as she looked at him funny. "I don't usually do this with every guy I meet."

He knew that, god he knew that, and that made this harder. "Don't break up with Logan." He forced the words out.

"Tristan," she tried to make her words firm, even though she wasn't exactly sure what was going on. "I'm going to break up with Logan. You didn't think this was going to be some torrid affair between us, did you? I mean, I have no objection to 'torrid', but I want more with you than an affair. I'm not that much of a bitch. I want to be with you, therefore I have to end it with him. He deserves that."

She didn't get it, and there was no way that they would escape from this simply. "I can't be with you, Rory." He couldn't bring himself to lie and say that he didn't want to, so he simply chose 'can't' as a cop out.

He felt her drop his hand that she had held in hers, and he closed his eyes at the deprivation of contact. Tristan opened his eyes to see her pale face with a haunted expression. "You did a pretty good job of being with me last night," her words were clipped, and it was unclear whether it was mostly anger or hurt that infiltrated her speech. "You're not that good an actor Tristan, it wasn't cheap sex for you either."

It was far from cheap sex, but it wasn't that simple. "I know," the words came out on a sigh, "But we can't be together."

As Rory tried to process what was going on, she just stared at him dumbly. It made little sense. She knew he had been a player in his day, with lots of girls, but even he couldn't fake what had passed between them last night. It hadn't just been sex, although that had been amazing, they had connected. "Excuse me?" those were the only words she could think of to say.

He knew this wasn't going to be easy, not when her stricken look made him feel like he was punched in the gut, but he never knew that it would be this hard. He wanted to pretend to be cavalier, like it meant nothing, but he couldn't do that, not with her. It wasn't who he was anymore. It would take more than that. "Rory," he tried to keep his voice calm and steady. "Last night was amazing for me, but I can't have a relationship with you."

"Ok," her voice was closer to wavering as she asked, "So that crap last night, about the kiss 'meaning something' to you, about caring for me, it was just one fat lie. All you were really looking for was to get in my pants?"

It killed him to hear what they had shared put in such crass terms, but he forced himself to nod, avoiding her eyes.

"Bull shit."

His head snapped up, almost shocked to hear the words come out of Rory Gilmore's mouth. That wasn't her. "Excuse me?" he asked, his tone shocked.

"Bull shit," she spit out again. He could see she was furious. He had expected hurt, and tears, but not this fury that seemed to spill out of her. "That is the biggest load of unadulterated crap I have ever heard in my life. Want to know what I heard last night before I fell asleep Tristan? You telling me you thought you loved me. I know you were waiting until I fell asleep, but I heard you. You don't contemplate love one minute, and refuse to be with someone the next. I understand that love and emotions may freak you out, but you don't run away scared."

"I'm not scared," he was emphatic in his words.

"Then what is this?" her tone was still clipped. "I'm not going to just slink away Tristan. I may be deluded in some things, but I know you care for me. I'm not going to let you deceive me into thinking otherwise. I won't be that girl. I'm going to force the issue. Don't try and deny it."

"It's not about whether or not I care," he let the frustrated words come out, even though he knew that it was not the best steps in getting her to think there was really nothing between them.

"Then what is it about?" Rory wanted to throw something at him. "Don't try and make me believe it's guilt for sleeping with your friends girlfriend, and you're trying to assuage your conscience by getting me to go back to him. Regardless of what happens between you can me her today, I'm ending it with him. It's not fair to either Logan or I to force the issue when I know there's something missing."

"I just can't be with you," he tried to be forceful, wanting her to leave it at that.

"Then why did you kiss me? Why did you sleep with me? Why did you talk about love?" her voice was almost at shouting level. Rory was barely aware of the volume of her voice, not thinking herself capable of it. But she had never found herself in this situation before, with someone she cared about so deeply. And anger helped drown out the hurt.

Tristan didn't say anything, just stared at her wordlessly. His jaw was clenched so tightly she couldn't believe that it didn't hurt. He wouldn't look her directly in the eyes.

"So let me get this straight," she continued on, on a roll, "You think you love me, you have feelings for me, we had some of the best sex ever, and that means we can't be together?"

"Essentially," he knew the word sounded 'bitchy' for lack of a better adjective, but he didn't know what to say to her without blurting it all out.

She could feel tears gathering, but she held them back, wrapping herself in anger. She crossed her arms and settled back. "You're going to have to do better than that Tristan," she told him bluntly. "This means too much to me to just walk away. The only way I'm leaving here is if you can tell me that I mean nothing to you, that last night meant nothing to you, and mean it. See, I'm willing to risk my pride for you." Her voice lowered, and the tears that she had been fighting threatened. "See at this point, I don't think I love you, I pretty much know."

In a way that declaration cost her more than sleeping with him had. Love wasn't something she tossed about lightly. She didn't know what to make of it, when he let out a loud, "Goddammit!" and swung his legs over the other side of the bed, away from her. She caught a glimpse of his naked form before he pulled on his pants and zipped them up. He turned violently to face her. "You want to know why I can't be with you? Why I've been fighting this from the moment I laid eyes on you? Why even all the love in the world won't make this work?"

His questions seemed rhetorical, but she answered, "Yes," anyway, refusing to blanch at his harsh tone.

"See Rory," his voice was loud even as he struggled into his shirt from the night before. "The easiest explanation is that I'm damaged goods. Really badly damaged it you want the truth. I'm not really fit for a relationship with someone like you. That's why it all just doesn't matter. If I really love you, I'll let you go."

"That's the biggest load…." She began to speak, but he cut her off.

"Don't say that, not when you don't understand," He stood with his hands on his hips. "It's not problems that can just go away. You don't get it."

"Then make me understand," her words were soft, but firm, challenging him.

He gave a humourless laugh. "Being in the military isn't GI Joe and saving the world; it's hell on earth, at least it was for me. I wouldn't do it again for anything in the world. Not even independence from my father was worth it all. If I had known ahead of time what I was getting into, I never would have signed up. Military school was nothing. When I went overseas I was still somewhat the cocky SOB that I was at Chilton. It changed me, and I came back a completely different person."

"It's that person I fell in love with," Rory moved on her knees across the bed, and held out her hand to him, but let it fall when he didn't respond.

"No," he was abrupt. "I'm not what you seem to think I am. I'm not a fit boyfriend for someone like you. I would make your life fucking miserable."

"What are you talking about 'someone like me'?" her tone was fairly furious.

He finally looked at her then, and took her hand. "Rory, you're the same person you always were. You're smart, you're intelligent, and you're so damn innocent I can't believe it. For lack of a better word, you're pure. I would take all that, and stomp on it, and make you into a bitter person. I would taint you. I refuse to be the one who does that to you. You deserve better."

"Fuck that," she swore for the second time, shocking him even as she pulled her hand back from him and poked him in the chest. "I'm not some pure white dove that you have to worry about. In case you didn't notice Tristan, I grew up."

"You got older," was all he said in a tired tone, oblivious to her fury. "Innocence isn't a bad thing Rory. Most would kill for it."

"I'm not that person anymore," her tone was insistent, tired of being classified as that by the world. "I won't deny that I was. I was the perpetual good girl. Don't condescend to me Tristan, I deserve more than that. Don't put me up on some pedestal."

"It's not about being 'good'," Tristan told her, not sure how to make her see the truth. "It's not that simple. You don't get it, you can't, and hopefully you never will."

"You want to know exactly how worldly I am now?" her voice was hollow, even as some tears slipped down her cheek. This wasn't how she pictured telling him about her past, had never really planned on bringing it up at all. "You remember when you asked me about Dean when we saw him at Luke's? As you probably noticed, I'm not a virgin, and I've never slept with Logan. I had sex with a married man Tristan, while his wife was at home waiting for him. My ex-boyfriend, Dean. Imagine that, I lose a lot of my innocence that night, not only literally, but sobbing on my front lawn while I alienated my mother too."

He was taken aback, he wouldn't deny it. He could tell how it was eating her up inside, and he wanted to reassure her, but that wasn't the primary goal in his mind. But if that was the most nightmarish thing she could come up with, she had no idea. "Sex with one guy, married or not, is irrelevant here Rory. If you want to play 'show me yours', I'd had sex with quite a few girls before I left Chilton, including some married society friends of my parents. But that's not what I'm talking about. Sex, despite the popular belief among teens, does not make you worldly. I was still innocent and clueless when I entered the military."

Rory wanted to hit him with something, make him see reason. She didn't even pay attention to his casual acceptance of her story about Dean. "Nothing you can tell me will scare me off; make me not want to be with you. I want to be in this with you for the long haul." She kissed him quickly, not giving him a chance to stop her, but he pulled away just as firmly.

She could almost see him snap as he continued on. "Nothing, huh? Don't make promises you can't keep."

"Nothing," she affirmed, only able to watch as he paced in front of her.

"If you think some ill-advised sex is the worst there is," he began to speak again, "You don't have a clue. Want to hear about the first time I had to kill someone Rory? That's a great heart-warming story. Oh, in military terms it was justified. He was about to shoot me with a rifle he had hidden in his car. But that doesn't change the fact that I took a human life. That I left a wife without her husband, a family without their father. I had to do it, but that didn't stop me from wanting to throw up as I saw his body lying there, blood pooling from his chest."

She started to say something, but he continued on. "Or how about I tell you about the wonderful times we had to raid civilian homes? That was a fun experience, let me tell you. Terrified families, scared we were going to kill them. I mean, any tip, valid or not, and we went in. Can't take any chances after all. Never felt so proud to be a soldier in my life."

"Ever been confronted with your own mortality Rory? It made for a nice Christmas last year when some insurgents tossed a grenade in the place where we were staying. If it hadn't miraculously turned out to be a dud, they would still be picking my body parts up."

Tristan was breathing heavily by that point, reliving all the memories that were haunting him. She reached out to rest her hand on his shoulder, wanting nothing more than to comfort him and take away some of the pain he was feeling, but he just took a step back, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt again, letting it slip off. She couldn't understand what he was doing.

"You wanted to know where I got these," his voice was back to being soft again as he indicated the scars that were on his chest and stretching around to his back. "I mean, who wouldn't be curious? Gruesome things. Great souvenir to bring home with me. Cause the memories weren't enough, I have to have constant physical reminders."

She wanted to say something, but knew he didn't want to hear it, not now. So she just sat in rapt attention as he continued. It was as if he was talking to himself as he ran a finger along the one scar on his chest. "We were dealing with an unruly crowd in Iraq," the words were soft, and almost didn't seem directed at her. "Happened occasionally. It was me and nearly my whole unit there, who'd I'd been with since basic training. The people were protesting, well I still don't know what they were protesting, but it usually had to do with us being there. I was a bit removed from the rest of them, dealing with a hysterical woman who was trying to hit me with her fists. That's was why I wasn't as close to the action as the rest of them."

He seemed short of breath as he went on. "I turned around, and that's when I saw the child standing in the center of the crowd. It took a moment to register what was happening, it didn't happen that often anymore, but the child was a suicide bomber. No better place than a large crowd, full of Americans. I had a clear shot, could have taken her down, but I hesitated. _She was just a child._ And that hesitation cost many people their lives that day. It would have cost me mine, but I was far enough away. I was just hit by a lot of shrapnel, but barely felt it. I went among the wounded, frustrated that I could do nothing to help them. I passed out on top of my friend Isaac who had been at military school with me."

Rory didn't even realize she was crying as she listened to him, not sure she wanted to hear anymore, but knew it was necessary for the both of them, him primarily. "I woke up in a military hospital 3 days later. They informed me I was lucky to live. See, three large parts of a building had hit me in the chest. One had even gone all the way through to the other side. Hence, the massive scars I have now. Lucky to live," he gave a derisive laugh. "I remembered immediately what had happened, no blocking it out for me. I didn't feel lucky to live at that point. I wanted to die like nearly everyone in my squad had. It was all my fault, because I hesitated. Soldiers, civilians, they all died because of me."

Rory didn't know what to say, just wanted to hug him, but he wasn't even looking at her, he was still looking transfixed at the scars on his chest. "I was transferred to a hospital stateside. Not far from here actually. Not that it made my parents visit me; I suppose that's one thing I can't really blame them for. It was too messy for them to deal with, beyond their capacities. But it didn't all end there. Every night I woke up sweating and panicked, haunted by dreams of that day. Those brilliant shrinks at the hospital recognized it for what it was. Post-traumatic stress disorder. Sort of a permanent condition. I still wake up with the nightmares."

And there it was, finally all out in the open. He had never told anyone about all his baggage before. He had tried with his parents, but they didn't want to hear it. He sounded defeated when he looked at her. "Still think there's nothing that could make you not want to be with me." He could see the tears on her cheeks.

"No, there isn't," Rory told him, aching. Aching for him. But her words were soft.

He took that as weakness, as a lie. "Want to hear about how I contemplated killing myself a couple times?" he was brutal in his honestly, wanting her to see, to understand why he wasn't fit to be with her, to be with anyone. "Those first months back were the worst of my life. And I dealt with it all by my goddamn self; just me and the doctors. When your sole support system is a bunch of quacks, you know you're fucked."

"Tristan," that was all she said, all she could say. She stood up slowly, scared. Not of him, never of him, but scared of how he would react to her. She walked up to him, and put her arms around him, refusing to let go even when he tried to back away.

"I don't want your pity," his tone was harsh. "That's not what this was about. I wanted you to see why this, you and I, won't work. I'm fucked-up Rory, majorly. Just go, go back to Logan, and be grateful I'm sparing you the disappointment that would come with me. I can't be the man you deserve."

"This isn't pity," she whispered the words as she kissed his shoulder. "This is love Tristan. I'm not that shallow. I love you for who you are. Scars, emotional or otherwise."

This wasn't how she was supposed to be reacting. She was supposed to be repulsed by the idea that he had killed people, that he was responsible for numerous deaths because he hadn't done what needed to be done. She was supposed to see that he was incapable of being the steady man that she needed, that we was simply broken. He tried to be gentle, but he could see the hurt on her face as he pried himself loose from her arms.

"What Tristan?" she wouldn't just let him retreat into his shell away from her. "Is that what you've convinced yourself of? That just because you've experienced more horror than most people should have to face in a lifetime, that makes you damaged for life? That because of all that you're not worthy of love? You're too intelligent to believe that."

"What are you going to do when I go through one of my depression cycles again? How about when the simple sound of a car backfiring sends me into panic mode cause it triggers the flashbacks? Nobody deserves to have to deal with that. I think of myself as a murderer more often than not. I need a shrink more than I need a girlfriend, I won't condemn you to that role."

"I think I get to make that choice," she told him quietly. "Don't tell me what I can or cannot handle. What am I supposed to do? Slink away just because you tell me too? I love you, and that isn't going away. Depression, nightmares, PTSD, it doesn't matter. You're the only one who can make me happy."

He shook his head, "I'll make you miserable more. Trust me, I know what I am."

"What you are? You're the best man I've ever met, and nothing you tell me will ever change that."

"I'll hurt you," he reiterated it again, then let out his selfish fear for not wanting to get involved, for letting himself be with her. "And I don't think I'll be able to survive it when you want to leave."

Tristan could see she wanted to protest, to reassure him, but he wouldn't let her. He was doing the right thing for both of them, even if she couldn't see it right now. He turned his back to her even as he said, "I'm going for a run. If you care for me at all, please, be gone when I get back." And with that he grabbed his runners, exiting the apartment, not caring that people would think him crazy if they saw him running in his formal clothes from the night before. He had caught the stricken look on Rory's face, and had to get away before he weakened.

As he shut the door behind him, he felt something on his face he hadn't felt since those first days in the hospital. Tears. He angrily brushed them away, telling himself he was doing the right thing. It was right for her, even if most of it was his own fear. He couldn't bear if he fell deeper in love with her, only to have her come to despise him. She should never have to see the darkness that threatened to overcome him on a daily basis.

He never heard her crying on the other side as he walked away.


	16. They Called Me Mary Once

**Title**: What Lies Within Us

Chp. 16 They Called Me Mary Once

**Disclaimer**: I don't own. Duh.

**Introduction:** I know I'm delusional….but Trory. Well, obviously not at first because that would be too easy, but I wanted to clarify. Basically set in the present, maybe like a year ahead, slightly altered to make things work. Oh, side note, and although this fic started before viewing of 'wedding bell blues', assume Rory and Logan got together in similar matter (**_they're just not having sex_**), and decided on some 'strings' eventually. Stuff is slightly diff, see rest of fic.

**Rating:** Pg-14. That's too be safe. Pg-13 movies nowadays have much worse. But slightly upped ratings due to discussion of adult stuff.

**Authors Note:** Weird writing it this way when on the show they were having sex (didn't see that coming when I started the fic, and don't agree with the way it happened on show), but otherwise it's fairly similar. And, yes, long update time, sorry. As much as I wish it didn't, work takes precedence over fanfic writing.

I wrestled with how to write Logan. You'll see what I mean.

* * *

Heartbreak like this wasn't supposed to exist. It was supposed to be something you read about in books, something you saw on television. Rory had never believed she was capable of being hurt this way. Her first breakup, her last breakup, nothing had prepared her for the way she felt as she had watched Tristan walk out that door. She had never thought herself capable of that depth of feeling, at least not until now. 

She hurt because of him, and for him. Rory had never known all that he felt, all that he had kept bottled up in side, all the stuff he had never shared because it wasn't 'manly' to show weakness. Nobody should have to live day after day with the memories and pain that Tristan carried around with him. It didn't make her want to reject him in the way he thought it would, it just made her want to be there for him so he could finally have someone who didn't reject him, have someone who cared.

Frustratedly she wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. She didn't know if she was supposed to be sad or angry. She didn't know how she was supposed to feel that he had walked out the door, away from her, and didn't want to have anything to do with her. She was torn between anger over his deluded notion that he was damaged goods and unworthy, and sadness over his rejection.

All she knew was that she had to stay and make him see reason. She wasn't going to leave, like he expected her to do, like he had convinced himself that it was best that she do. Tristan was worth risking her pride for, he was worth risking anything for. So, she sat there on the couch facing the door to Luke's apartment and waited for him to come back. He had to come back; all his worldly possessions were here. She didn't know what to do, only knew that if she left she would be missing a pivotal moment; if she wasn't here when he got back she would never see him again.

When it hit 7:00 AM, she wasn't worried, she knew that he was purposefully staying away until he could be sure she had left. She knew he thought he was doing what was best for both of them.

When it hit 10:00 AM she didn't want to believe it. She kept in her spot, staring at the door, waiting for him to come back.

When it hit 12:00 noon, she finally accepted that he wasn't coming back.

* * *

Rory walked down the stairs slowly, clad in her dress and coat from the night before. She ached in ways she didn't know were possible, not just physically. She hadn't seen her reflection; men like Luke didn't keep mirrors around the apartment. She didn't know that she looked like death warmed over; her carefully applied make-up was smudged from sleep and in a mess on her face from the tears she had shed, her hair was astray as she hadn't given much thought to fixing it, and her expression said it all. She carried her high heels that seemed impractical and stupid in the daytime. 

It was the middle of the day outside. She had waited awhile longer on the deluded hope he might come back, that she was wrong. She stood at the bottom of the stairs and stared out into the snow covered world. It looked bright and cheerful, in direct contrast to her mood. Rory was grateful that she didn't have to come down to a diner full of patrons, but worried about her chances of getting to her car without running into anyone. With her luck Miss Patty would be taking a walk outside the diner the minute she stepped out.

When she heard a noise to her right, she turned sharply. She wanted to believe that it was Tristan more than anything, that he had been waiting down here. There wasn't supposed to be anyone else in the diner this morning. She looked hopefully for Tristan's cropped hair, but it was Luke who walked out from the back room, carrying account ledgers.

"Rory." His voice was surprised as he dropped his books down on the counter, shocked at the sight of her.

"Hi Luke," she said the words quietly, trying desperately to wipe the remnants of tears from her eyes before he noticed them, knowing it was a futile effort. "I didn't think you were coming in today."

"I wanted to catch up on some bookwork," he explained, motioning towards the accounting records he had set down, unsure of what to say. He took in her dishevelled appearance, her clothes from the night before, and the tears in her eyes, and knew that she hadn't spent the night at her grandparents like Lorelai said she had.

Rory just nodded in response to his statement, feeling so uncomfortable and embarrassed she was sick with it. She didn't want Luke to see her like this, she didn't want anyone to see her like this. She was secure in the angelic persona she had in all of their minds. She didn't want him to see her after a night spent cheating on her boyfriend with another man who hadn't even stuck around the morning after. Of throwing it all away for something she wasn't even being given the opportunity to try.

"Is Tristan up there?" Luke asked gently, noticing she looked like she wanted to bolt.

"Uh, no," her voice was hoarse as she continued, "he's not. I'm not, uh, sure where he is right now. He, um, went for a run and might not be coming back."

Luke was naïve in his own way, and delusional when it came to the girl he had watched grow up over the years, but he had a good idea what had happened the previous night. His first instinct was to find Tristan and beat the living shit out of him, but it didn't look like rashness was the solution here, anger didn't seem to have a place. Rory looked fragile at the moment, and he wished like hell her mother was here, but it was only him. "Are you okay?" he finally asked, walking over to her from behind the counter and resting his hand on her arm. He didn't know how else to broach the subject, how to be comforting.

He didn't know what to do, or how to react when she gave a soft bitter laugh. Rory didn't know how to respond, didn't know if she wanted to. She wasn't fine right now, and neither was Tristan, but instead of being able to sort it out and talk to him, she was left with no clue as to where he was. She had been trying to work up some anger, but all she could do was picture him freezing to death as he tried to jog all the way back to Yale. She knew why he was walking away, why he was avoiding her, and she was trying to understand with all she was worth, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

"Want to talk about it?" Luke finally asked when she said nothing, words he was far from comfortable uttering, but this was Rory, and he'd be there if she needed him.

Looking up at the man who had been the largest father-figure she had in her life, who had been there for her and her mom during the good times and the bad, Rory started to cry again as she told him the whole story.

* * *

Luke pulled up in front of the Gilmore house, Rory sitting in the seat of his truck beside him. He hadn't wanted her to drive when she was so upset, and had promised to bring her car by later. He killed the engine, and simply waited as she hesitated, looking up at the house. 

"It's going to be okay," he told her awkwardly, trying his best to sound optimistic and comforting.

"Yeah, I suppose," Rory replied with a sad smile, her hand on the handle of the door. She paused before opening the door. "Thanks Luke, for just listening."

He nodded, uncomfortable even as he was glad he could be there for her. It had been hard to listen to her sob out her story, to know that what had started it all was the two of them up there last night doing "it" (with Rory he couldn't think of the act as anything but "it"), and in his bed no less. It had felt like he was invading Tristan's privacy when Rory had shared his darkest secrets. It had been even harder to know that there was nothing he could do for either of them to solve this problem; these weren't the kind of issues he liked to deal with, he liked problems that had clear cut solutions. He wasn't an advice kind of man, he had only been able to sit there, awkwardly patting her arm as she talked.

She hesitated, but hugged him quickly as she got out of the car. It wasn't the first time that Rory had hugged Luke, and it wouldn't be the last, but this time it sort of made him feel like he was her dad, and he liked the feeling.

Luke watched her walk up to the door, pausing on the porch before letting herself in. He wanted to go in, be back with her and Lorelai, but there was something he had to do first. Starting the truck again, he pulled away.

* * *

The house was quiet when Rory let herself in, save for the sound of the shower she could hear running. But even as she shut the door behind her Lorelai came around the corner. 

"Not exactly as early as might have been wise," she told Rory, not yet noticing her daughter's expression. "But sleeping beauty finally chose to get up off the couch and go for a shower. You have a few minutes to prepare yourself for the inevitable showdown."

It didn't take her long to realize Rory still looked upset, and shell-shocked. "Honey?" she simply asked, her voice infused with sympathy as Rory sniffled a little. She was surprised even more when Rory quickly hugged her, and she wrapped her arms around her daughter, trying to comfort without even knowing what was going on.

After a minute, Lorelai leaned back a little and looked at Rory. "Tristan?" she asked the one-worded question, knowing he was somehow the cause.

"I'll tell you later," Rory promised wearily, knowing that first she had to face her blonde-haired boyfriend. "I need to talk to Logan first."

Lorelai nodded in agreement, even as Logan himself walked into the entrance way where they stood. He had just gotten dressed, and his hair was still wet from the shower. Lorelai took a look at her daughter, a look at him, and said, "I think I'll go pick up some coffee," in a falsely cheery manner, pecking Rory on the cheek as she let herself out the front door.

"What's going on Ace?" Logan asked, concerned by the expression on her face, reverting back to his old nickname for her that he slipped into from time to time.

"We need to talk Logan," she took his hand for what she knew was probably the last time as she led him into the living room. His skin was warm in hers, and she squeezed briefly before releasing his hand as they sat down on the couch.

She hesitated, not sure how to start, what to say. Rory could see he was staring questioningly at her, unsure of what she was going to say, and it made it all the harder. She had never been the one to break up, the one to end it. Not like this.

"Logan…." Her voice was hesitant as she began, and tears began to pool in her eyes. She squeezed them shut, not wanting him to see. This was one of the hardest things she had to do, hurt someone who had done nothing to harm her, someone she cared about. She had cared for Logan, would have been happy with him if she had never been exposed to something better, something more complete; Tristan.

"What's wrong?" she felt his hand reach up and brush at the tear that was sliding down her cheek, even as she resisted against them. She immediately scooted back, not to hurt him, but because she felt guilty accepting his comfort after what she had done to him last night, what she was doing now. And even more guilty because all the tears she was shedding weren't over what she was doing to him; she had imagined this moment, as hard as it would be, would be made easier by the knowledge Tristan would be waiting for her at the end.

"This…us…we can't do it anymore," she didn't know how to do it, didn't know if that was specific enough.

She watched as he stared at her dumbly, not saying anything. Rory couldn't read his face, didn't know his reaction. His face was impassive, revealing nothing. But she watched as he pulled further back from her, and knew that he had understood her sentiment, even if she hadn't delivered it right.

The silence began to stretch into minutes, and she began to wonder if she should say something, try to explain, but he suddenly stood up from the couch and stalked over to the staircase. She watched, dumfounded, as he rested his hand on the banister to the stairs before turning quickly back to her. "You're breaking up with _me_?"

"I'm sorry," Rory told him, sincerely, standing up and walking over to him. She understood when he brushed off the hand she rested on his arm, but it hurt all the same. "I want you to know that I care….."

"What is this all about?" he seemed genuinely confused even through the anger that was forming. "Everything was good, fine, and you're ending it? I think I'm missing something here."

She knew she owed it to him to be honest, at least as honest as she could. She wouldn't drag Tristan into this, now when he was being so adamant about having nothing to do with her. "That's the problem," she began, trying to make him understand. "It was 'good', it was 'fine'." She didn't know how to say that she wasn't willing to settle.

"I see," was all he said, his hands on his hips.

Concerned only with protecting his feelings, she continued, "It's not like everything between us was a lie. I cared about you, I still do. I just….I need more. I'm so sorry Logan, I don't want to hurt you, but it's not fair to either of us if we just go on like this when I feel this way. I'm so so sorry."

Rory still couldn't see what he was feeling; she wasn't sure if it was worse because she couldn't see any emotion on his face, or for the better. He was just staring at her intently, as if trying to comprehend all that she was saying. "So," he finally began. "What exactly happened after I left your grandparents party last night?"

"Excuse me?" the words came out without conscious thought. Whatever she had been expecting from him, that wasn't it.

"No, please, tell me, what happened after I left last night." He was insistent.

"What are you talking about?" she evaded the question as best she could, refusing to look him in the eye.

"Well, let's see. As of yesterday, besides being slightly annoyed with me for just showing up here in Stars Hollow, and ticked off I wouldn't come in too Luke's with you that one day, everything was fine. And yes, I realize, 'fine' was the reason you cited for ending this, but something had to have changed between then and now. We're just as 'fine' this morning as we were before. You didn't just wake up this morning to this sudden revelation. What happened?" He repeated his question, louder than before.

"I've been thinking about it for awhile now," she told the lie smoothly, trying to soften the blow. "It's nothing against you Logan, you know I care about you, believe that if nothing else. It's just….I've thought about it…and there's just something missing between us. That final element. You have to know that. There will be some other woman who….."

He didn't seem interested in her platitudes or explanations. "No Rory, please tell me, I want to know. What made you decide to break up with me this morning, after my grandfathers health scare, when we hadn't so much as fought, when I'm staying at your house with no easy way to extricate myself?"

She closed her eyes in regret, having completely forgotten about his grandfather the night before. As minor as it had been, as calm as he had been, she should have inquired, should have cared. "I know the timing isn't ideal," and that was a minor understatement, "But it isn't fair to either of us if we go on like this."

It was if he wasn't listening to what she was saying, how she was trying to explain. "Rory, what happened last night?"

"Nothing." She replied insistently, not giving an inch.

"Don't give me that," Logan snapped. She had never seen him angry before, not at her, not at anyone.

"Logan, nothing happened," she tried to make him leave it at that, tried to make him believe her. But she had always been a crappy liar.

"I think with this you at least owe me the truth Rory," even if he already suspected what it was. "Don't lie to me, not now. You owe me the truth."

"Nothing happened," she reiterated, but her words lacked the conviction needed to make him believe.

"You didn't spend last night at your grandparents house, did you Rory?" His words were full of condemnation, but she couldn't fault him couldn't get angry at his tone. "That's what your mother told me when I pulled in _after checking on my injured grandfather_ early this morning, but she was just covering, wasn't she? I bet if I called Emily and Richard right now they would have no idea where you disappeared to last night, would they?"

"No, they wouldn't," her admission was quiet as she wouldn't look him in the face.

Her agreement momentarily took the wind out of his sails, but it was only for a brief instant. "Where were you?" he asked, wanting her to admit it. Since he had fixated on the issue, he knew what had caused the turnaround from the past day.

Rory's only answer was a steady stream of tears, spilling over onto her cheeks as she rested her head in her hands. She had nothing to give, nothing she could tell him that would make this any easier for any of them. There were no explanations, no excuses she could give. The truth wasn't going to solve this issue.

"Where were you?" Logan repeated the question, getting more frustrated by the minute.

Making her decision, trying to be fair to him, she lifted her head and looked him square in the face. "I was with Tristan." She admitted, trying to keep her head high.

Even though it had been what he was expecting, what he had suspected, it didn't make the words any easier to hear. "All night?" was all he asked, wanting to clarify the issue, even though there was really no question.

"Yes." There would be no more fabrications, no half-truths.

"I see." That was his immediate response. Calm, when she had been expecting a blow-up.

She didn't realize that was the calm before the storm, but she continued on. "Don't blame Tristan, it's not like that," If either of them really got what 'that' was. "He's worried beyond belief about hurting you, angering you. He doesn't want to lose your friendship. He won't be with me, it's not like that. I'm not breaking up with you for him, I'm breaking up with you because I know there's more than what we have." With Tristan, but she wasn't going to point that out.

"But you slept with him," he seemed fixated on that issue, wanting to clarify even though it had been made evident.

She owed him the truth, but it wasn't that easy to admit to the man who had officially been her boyfriend last night. "Does it really matter?" she asked, even though to him it was probably a major issue. But by her avoidance, she was just admitting her guilt.

"So, let me get this straight in my mind?" he began to pace even as he ticked off his list on his fingers. "I changed for you, I became involved in a monogamous relationship for you. I was good to you, faithful to you, and we were happy. I didn't force you, was patient when you wanted to wait to have sex. And how does that all turn out? You dump me over some quick lay?"

She hated to hear her night with Tristan discussed in such crude terms. And the rest of it, he made it sound like she had been in the wrong for not sleeping with him right away. But he was upset, and she had betrayed him in the worst way possible. She had slept with one of his closest friends. "There are no excuses for what I did," she said calmly, "It was wrong. But nothing changes the fact that you and I aren't right together."

"You had sex with him." Rory couldn't believe that was all he was fixated on. Not that she betrayed him, their relationship, but that she had slept with someone before she had with him.

She had reached the end of her patience with him. She had tread carefully because she was worried about his feelings, but he didn't even seem that upset over the loss of their relationship. "What angers you more Logan?" she snapped. "The fact that I cheated on you, or the fact that I had sex with someone when I wouldn't with you."

"I have a right to be upset." He told her insistently, thinking she was denying she had done anything wrong.

"I'm not saying you don't," Rory said in a frustrated tone. "I know I was in the wrong, and nothing can excuse what I did. But are you even upset for the right reasons?"

He ignored her question. "I can't believe this shit. I suspected he had a thing for you, ever since that afternoon in the library. Why did you think I came up here when I could have been partying with the rest of my friends?"

"To be with me?" her words came out more sarcastic than she had intended.

"Are you getting mad at me right now?" Logan was incredulous. "After last night, you're getting mad at me?"

She shook her head. "No," she told him simply, "I'm not." And she wasn't. She just felt so bloody tired after all of this. She had moved beyond anger and hurt, and that in itself should be a sign they weren't meant to be together, when she barely cared anymore that he came out of a sense of jealousy rather than wanting to be with her.

"I stayed faithful to you, even when it was the hardest thing I've ever done. I'd never done the monogamous relationship thing before, but for you I did it. Pretty girls came onto me, and although I wanted them, I didn't do it. I stayed faithful Rory, even though it was one of the hardest things I've ever done, and you wouldn't even sleep with me."

"It's not some fucking contest," Rory told him quietly. "Doesn't it tell you something by how tempted you were that this wasn't right for either of us? Relationships are supposed to be work, but not some sort of self torture. Be glad we didn't sleep together Logan, it would be something we could never take back."

Logan just shook his head, "Don't try to pretend you take sex that seriously Rory. You just didn't want to do it with me. But hey, your married ex-boyfriend stops by and you're good to go. You're attracted to someone you knew from high school and you hop in the sack. Not sleeping with me didn't have to do with morals; what stopped you, the fact that we were actually in a committed relationship with each other?"

"You bastard," those were the first words out of Rory's mouth. She had told him about her past with Dean because she believed you should be upfront in a relationship, be honest. She had trusted him. She had never thought he would throw it back at her, rub her face in her past mistakes.

"Have you ever not cheated Rory?" Logan asked cruelly, taunting her with all he knew about her past. "You cheated on your first boyfriend with Luke's nephew, you slept with your married ex boyfriend, and you slept with Tristan while you were supposed to be committed to me. Mary? That was the name they called you in high school wasn't it Rory? How the mighty have fallen, huh?"

"It's not like that; I'm not like that," Rory's words were soft even as she began to cry. She had screwed up, she had made mistakes, but she wasn't a bad person, she couldn't be. And at least this time, it had been for love.

"You're not?" he asked sarcastically.

It would have been too easy to fall back on the hurt, to let him walk all over her because she felt guilty for cheating on him. Instead she chose to let the anger out, because it was its own protection. "You're criticizing my past Logan? That's rich. So I'm curious, how many girls have you slept with? And I'm sure every relationship was deep and meaningful; at least as deep and meaningful as it can be after an hour's acquaintance."

"At least they were all single," he shot back, trying to even the score.

She never thought he could hurt her in this way. "Go to hell Logan, this has nothing to do with my sexual past, or yours. So I wasn't a virgin when I met you, neither were you. And it's not like I expected you to be."

"There's a big difference between a virgin and who……" he cut himself before he said the last word, knowing he had gone too far. But as he watched the colour drain from her face he knew there was no taking back what had remained technically unsaid.

"Get out," the words were soft, but strong. "Grab your bag, and get out."

"Rory…" he tried to say something, but she cut him off again. "If sleeping with one man before I met you makes me a whore, and one man after, I wonder what that makes you?"

As much as he had lashed out, she had taken a lot, mostly from the guilt of hurting him. But what he had been about to say, what he had implied was going too far. She watched, trying to be stoic as he gathered his belongings and stuffed them in his bag. Logan refused to look at her, for as much as regretted calling her a whore, he had no interest in reconciliation, at getting past this. He couldn't see past his anger, and didn't care if he left with her hating him.

"Here." That was all she said as she took the expensive necklace he had given her from where it had been sitting in her pocket, and tried to give it back to him.

He looked at it disgustedly, and refused to take it from her outstretched hand. "Keep it, pawn it, I don't care. I just don't want it." He did up the zipper on his bag and headed for the door. It was at that point they both noticed Lorelai, who had recently walked in. Logan just shook his head, saying nothing to her.

As angry as she was at him, Rory spoke to him when he turned back to look at her. "I never wanted it to end this way."

"Then you shouldn't have slept with my friend," Logan replied disgustedly, even as he turned and walked out the door, past the for once silent Lorelai who held two coffee cups.

Rory didn't move, even as she watched him go. She stood there motionless, even as Lorelai walked into the room, and looked at her daughter, concerned. "You heard?" she asked her mother wearily.

"The end? Yeah," Lorelai replied, still uncharacteristically reserved. She sat down on the couch, holding the two cups of coffee, and motioned for Rory to join her.

Rory sat down on the couch beside her mother and took the cup of coffeeLorelai held out to her. Silently, they sat side by side sipping their coffees, a rare occurrence. Rory because she was ashamed of it all, and Lorelai because she didn't know how to begin the conversation. She simply sipped at her coffee and waited for her daughter to speak.

"I'm not a whore, am I mom?" the words were almost emotionless, save for the slight hitch in Rory's voice. She couldn't even look at Lorelai as she asked the question, choosing instead to stare down at the top of the coffee cup.

"No," Lorelai said emphatically, rubbing her hand down her daughters back comfortingly. "You're not."

It was at that point that Rory finally started to cry; and she sobbed like her heart was breaking. And just like when she was a little girl, and her biggest problem was a B on a geometry test, she rested her head on her mother's shoulder and pretended that she could fix it all for her and make the bad stuff go away. Lorelai just wrapped her arm around her daughter and waited for the emotional storm to subside, trying to comfort and be there for when Rory was ready to talk.

* * *

Tristan stood on the only highway heading out of Stars Hollow. He knew he looked ridiculous to the average passerby. He was standing there in runners and half a formal outfit from the night before. It may not be as scary as a vagrant, but it had the same effect, nobody wanted to pick him up. 

He had been trying to hitchhike back to Yale for the past hours with no success. He had ceased to feel the cold a long time ago; he didn't know if that was indifference or frostbite, but he just didn't care at this point. He had to get out, he had to go back. And this was the only way he could do it.

He couldn't face returning to Luke's, even though his stuff was there. He didn't know what option frightened him more. If Rory was there he would have to go through another emotional confrontation, and he didn't think he could handle that again; saying no to her. And if she had left, maybe she didn't really love him after all, and that was it's own painful realization. If he didn't go back, he didn't have to know which it was, and face those two different kinds of torture.

Only a few vehicles drove by; it wasn't the busiest stretch of land on New Years Day. None of them had even slowed, not that he really expected them too. But with the state of mind he was in, he would walk back to Yale if he had too. His runners were soaked through from the snow by that point, but he didn't care.

He could see a truck off in the distance, and as it approached, he stuck out his thumb in the faint hope the driver might stop. To his shock, the vehicle slowed as it neared him. As the truck idled up beside him, he was prepared to pay the man anything to take him back to campus. It was to his immense shock when it was Luke who threw open the passenger door.

"Get in," was all he said gruffly to a surprised Tristan.

* * *

A/N 2: I could have written Logan in this situation in two ways, understanding or not understanding to sort of sum it up. I wrestled with that one a little bit, but I think I chose the right way to go. He was betrayed in a way he never saw coming, and that would make him angry. 

A/N 3: Yes, Tristan wasn't as involved in this chapter.


	17. Escape Isn't That Easy

**Title**: What Lies Within Us

Chp. 17 Escape Isn't That Easy

**Disclaimer**: I don't own. Duh.

**Introduction:** I know I'm delusional….but Trory. Well, obviously not at first because that would be too easy, but I wanted to clarify. Basically set in the present, maybe like a year ahead, slightly altered to make things work. Oh, side note, and although this fic started before viewing of 'wedding bell blues', assume Rory and Logan got together in similar matter (**_they're just not having sex_**), and decided on some 'strings' eventually. Stuff is slightly diff, see rest of fic.

**Rating:** Pg-13, maybe, whatever that is in fanfic rating.

**Authors Note:** Yes, for anyone actually reading this fic, I'm finishing it. Sorry it took SOOOOOOOO long. But I'm back in my own place now, much more conducive to writing fanfic. My plan was to finish this about a month ago cause I had a different idea for a fic I wanted to write. But, since the season premiere is on Tues, and What Lies Within Us is incomplete yet, think I'm going to scrap the other idea cause I know they'll go a different direction than I was going to.

Although, I mean if nobody care about this anymore, I could scrap it and leave it as is. That's what I get for leaving updating for so long. It was just very hard staying with my parents again.

PS. If any of the authors whose fanfic I'm reading and liking are reading this fic (of course you won't know who you are, so this note is fairly pointless), I cannot update because for some reason my computer just won't let me. When I click on leave a review if just makes a beeping noise. I'm not a big reviewer, but I'm impressed by some fics out there. Ie. 'Untouched' and 'Popular' in the Gilmore genre.

* * *

It didn't take him long to make the decision, even though he hesitated. It was the middle of winter, it was cold, and he had long ago lost sensation in his toes. And, Luke didn't look like he was going to take no for an answer.

So Tristan got in the truck.

He had the foolish hope that Luke was going to drive him back to Yale, and felt his heart lift when the truck drove forward a couple metres. He then realized that Luke was just finding a place to turn around. It wasn't long before they were heading back to Stars Hollow. A drive that would take a lot less time than him walking the distance that morning.

They didn't say anything for a few minutes before Luke blurted out, "Listen, let's get this clear up front. I know everything ok? Rory told me."

Tristan stared out the window, not looking at Luke, "Everything?"

"Everything," Luke confirmed, avoiding looking at Tristan as well. "Don't think that Rory's spreading your personal business around. I was there in the diner when she came down. She was upset, we talked. That's all there is too it." He glanced over, and added significantly, "When she came down at one o'clock."

Tristan nodded, not missing what Luke was saying. She had waited for him. She had waited a really long time for him. "I need to get back to Yale," was all he said, even as he could see the town approaching in the distance.

"Eventually," Luke said, shifting gears in the truck.

"I'm assuming there's some sort of bus service out of Stars Hollow?" Tristan remarked sarcastically. "I'm not dependent on your help to get back."

"Your stuff is at my place," was all he got as reply. "And you think we have a bus service on New Years Day?"

"I'll find a way to leave," Tristan promised, knowing he sounded like a petulant child. It was all he could do to avoid slipping into a sulk. "Your dragging me back isn't going to change anything."

"Dragging?" he could practically hear the sound of Luke raising his eyebrows.

Tristan finally snapped a little. "Listen, I respect you Luke, but I don't know what you think you are doing. Getting me to come back isn't going to change anything. You said you know everything? Well, you know I can't stay. I'm not going to see her again. If bringing me back is some kind of misplaced attempt to get us together, it's not going to work."

"I think you did a good enough job 'getting together' last night." Luke's words were mild but they shut Tristan up. This was Rory's pseudo stepfather. He knew they had spent the night together, at his place that he had been generous enough to let Tristan crash at.

When Luke pulled over to the side of the road just before Stars Hollow and killed the engine, Tristan had the fleeting thought that he was going to kill him, and hide him out here where nobody would find him. But, when Luke turned to him, he was relieved to see there was no murderous gleam in his eye.

"Listen," Luke began as he fiddled with the keys in the ignition. "I'm not some Dr. Phil, so I'm not good with the pointless sappy advice, and we can keep this short. You're being stupid."

"Excuse me?" was all Tristan got out.

Luke nodded, "If you don't love Rory, this conversation is pointless, and I may have to kick your ass about last night, so don't tell me. I'm not going to force you to be with her, that's not my place and it won't solve anything. I just want to tell you that you are being stupid."

"And you're saying she told you everything?" Tristan asked, disbelievingly. He was sure that Luke would agree he wasn't the guy for Rory, that he wasn't good enough.

"I know your "logic" for walking down the highway, barely dressed, in the middle of winter if that's what you mean. Why you took off without any of your belongings, and why you don't want to have anything to do with the woman who was sobbing in my arms this morning."

Tristan resisted the urge to tell him to stay out of it, but just barely. "I'm doing the right thing."

"You think you are," was all Luke replied.

"Listen," Tristan was getting annoyed with his short, condescending replies. "You should be overjoyed that I'm walking away from her. This is in _her_ best interests. How can this not be the 'right thing'? I'm protecting her from me"

"Shut up Tristan. You're not some drug addicted ex-con. She's not going to get contaminated just by being in your presence. You don't just run out like that, the minute it gets complicated. You don't want to be with her, that's your business, even if I don't believe it. But this, this is stupid the way you're just running out."

"Would you stop saying that?" Tristan was getting more frustrated by the minute. "For the last time, I'm not stupid. I'm being sensible. Which is more than I can say for you at the moment. Is there a point to this ambush?"

"You're not being sensible," Luke corrected him, "You're being scared." He hated speaking about feelings, about the touchy-feely, but this had to be done.

Luke was wrong. He wasn't scared, he was terrified. But that wasn't all that was going on here. "That's not it."

"Yes, it is," Luke was more uncomfortable than he had ever been in his life. Not only was he having this conversation, he was having it with a man he didn't even know all that well. "You're scared. I hate to break it to you kid, but you're not unique in that regard. Do you honestly think no other man has ever asked themselves if the woman they love will all of a sudden not want to put up with the imperfections? No guy is perfect. When it matters to them, they fear being dumped."

When Tristan said nothing he continued on before he could talk himself out of it. "Lorelai? You don't think I've never had the thought that maybe one day she'll wake up and decide I'm not worth the trouble?"

"This isn't the same. Have you ever woken up trembling in fear, soaked through in your own sweat?"

"No."

"Do you get terrified at the simple sound of a car backfiring?"

"No, I don't," At Luke's answer, Tristan nodded, satisfied that he had made his point. But then Luke continued, "You're still being stupid."

Tristan knew he was trying to help, but that didn't stop him from wanting to strangle the man. "Luke, you should be thrilled about this. I'm doing what's best for Rory, for both of us. I'm. Not. Good. Enough. For. Her." He emphasized the last statement slowly, wanting Luke to see.

"No, you're not," Luke agreed, "But then again I'm of the opinion no man will ever be. But after seeing her devastated this morning, I know she thinks at least you're the best man for her. If I could hold a shotgun to your head and drag you guys to the altar I would, but that isn't an option here. So I'm just giving you this advice so hopefully we can spare everyone some nasty emotions. And, side note, one thing I've learned over my many years of dating: it never works out when you try to decide for a woman what's best for them."

He turned the key in the ignition, starting the truck again. "Listen Tristan, I like you, probably part of the reason I'm not letting you walk yourself back to Yale in the middle of winter. I'm not going to force you to see Rory and work this all out like adults, even though I want to. If you're still desperate to leave after you pack your crap, I'll even drive you to Yale. You can wallow in self pity there, and then months down the road when you realize how stupid you're being, I'm going to laugh."

Luke pulled back out into the highway, after checking over his shoulder. He didn't say anything else, just watched the road as he drove. "So," Tristan began when the silence got a little too long, "You're not good at talking about the personal stuff, huh?"

Luke just gave a reluctant bark of laughter, but said nothing in return.

* * *

Rory and her mother sat on the couch watching The Notebook. It was the middle of the afternoon, but Rory had slipped into her pyjamas and just didn't care. A pint of Ben and Jerry's was nestled in her lap, and she seemed to find every part of the movie heart breakingly sad. Not as sad as the time she had read the book, but for today it was close enough. This time she seemed content on perfecting the art of the wallow.

Every so often Lorelai would rub her arm gently in comfort. "I still think we should have chosen Benji," she muttered, disgruntled over Rory vetoing her depressing movie choice.

Rory had to agree in some ways. Maybe a movie about everlasting and all consuming love wasn't the best thing to be watching right now. The character Noah had fought in a war and he was still capable of being in a relationship. But, nobody in the movie got called a whore, that was a definite upside. Hearing that today might have sent Rory over the edge.

"Pizza?" Lorelai finally asked, unable to take it anymore when the wife in the story suffering from Alzheimers was getting scared of her husband.

"A large, loaded," Rory agreed morosely, taking two Kleenex to wipe the tears from her eyes.

Lorelai walked into the kitchen to use the phone; the pizza place was the only thing open on New Years Day. Rory could hear her taking in cheery tones to Pete, the pizza guy, not admitting to him this was comfort food for her lovesick daughter. He wouldn't be that hard to fool. The two of them had ordered in pizza to eat often enough. But despite both Tristan and Logan being outsiders, somehow she just knew that the rest of the town would know by tomorrow about the break-up. It was the way things seemed to work. At the very least someone would have seen Tristan sprinting out of town in his semi-formal wear.

When Lorelai came back Rory had shut the movie off and was staring at a blank screen. "On to Benji?" she asked half-heartedly, flopping down on the couch.

"I don't know what to do," Rory admitted, choking back tears. "After today's dose of self-pity, when tomorrow comes I don't know what to do."

"You get up, you shower, you get dressed, and we go to Luke's," Lorelai answered, even though she knew it wasn't what her daughter wanted to hear. But, it was still the truth. As much as it hurt, as much as it felt like her heart was breaking, life went on and she would have to live it.

"It's not that easy," Rory smiled bitterly, fiddling with a stray thread on the afghan that she was using to cover herself.

"No, it's not easy," Lorelai agreed, throwing her arm around her daughter, "But it's that simple. It'll hurt, it'll suck, but you'll get past this. All of this."

"No, I won't," she contradicted her mother statement, quickly and firmly.

"Yes, you will," Lorelai tried to be reassuring. "But you'll see Logan once or twice, and it'll be awkward and miserable for you, but you'll get past it. You'll see Tristan walking across the quad one day, and you'll feel like shit, but your life will go on."

"I won't mom," Rory told her softly. "I love him. For better or worse, that's not going to change whether we're together or not."

"It may feel that way," her mother tried to point out reasonably, "but this is not the be all and end all for you. You're 21, you'll meet someone else. I don't doubt you love him, not after all this, but that can mean so many different things in the long run. I loved Max, I really did; it wasn't just affection, it was love. But obviously he wasn't the one I was meant to spend the rest of my life with. And I still love him to some extent, but I recognize it for what it is, when I have something better to compare it to."

"Tristan's my 'something better' mom," Rory wiped her eyes furiously. "I know how old I am, that doesn't change it. I don't believe in soul mates, not really, but I believe what's between us is the pinnacle of love for me. I know what I did last night was wrong, but I knew he was right. He's Rhett to my Scarlet, Mr. Darcy to my Elizabeth…" she glanced over at her mother. "Luke, to you."

"Can't argue with that," Lorelai said lightly, hugging Rory tighter. She didn't believe for a second her daughter wouldn't meet someone else, but Rory didn't take stuff like this lightly. Love was as difficult for her as it was for her mother; at times the admittance was even more difficult.

* * *

Tristan stood in the middle of Luke's bedroom holding his duffle bag, but making no effort to pack just yet. He just kept staring at Luke's bed, the sheets still strewn about, and all he could think about was last night there with Rory.

This morning with Rory.

It was at that point that he knew he wouldn't be able to move past her, not really. No matter where he went, no matter what he did, she was going to be a part of it all. Successes or failures, when he was wanting someone to share them with, he knew his thoughts would always drift to her. If he cared just a little bit less, he would give in and go find her.

"Ready to go yet?' he heard Luke's voice behind him and he jumped in surprise.

"Just about," he replied as he began hastily stuffing his belongings into his bag. When he picked up a shirt he noticed a discarded condom wrapper lying on the ground, and he hastily kicked it under the bed. Evidence of the night best not revisited with Luke.

He didn't care about neatness, or the proper fold and style that had been drilled into him in the military. He just shoved his belongings into the duffel, eager beyond belief to get out of there and back to Yale. He supposed it was foolish of him to think of Yale as a safe haven past the next few days; it was the school Rory attended, it was the college Logan lived at. But all he wanted to do now was go back, clear out of Logan's dorm, and spend the next years of his life playing the avoidance game. He figured he wouldn't be able to relax until about his second year of med school when they had long since graduated.

"Ready," when he was decently sure he had all his stuff, not that it really mattered. Just hours ago he had been willing to leave here with nothing.

"You're not going to change?" Luke asked the question even as he raised his eyebrow at Tristan's attire. He was still clad in the clothes he had hastily pulled on this morning, his clothes from the night before. He would look just as ridiculous at Yale in a tux as he did here.

"No," Tristan's answer was brief, but he was far from caring anymore. He didn't want to waste the time, the longer he was in Stars Hollow, the longer his resolve was tested. He would be probably the only one on the Yale campus anyway on New Years day. He just wanted to get out of here.

"You're sure you want me to drive you to Yale?" Luke's voice was disbelieving as they began the dismount of the stairs back to the diner. To his credit he wasn't forcing the issue anymore, just looking at him with a disapproving stare whenever Tristan reaffirmed his wish to go back.

"Yes Luke," Tristan's voice was weary as he answered. He didn't have the energy to fight, but his resolve wasn't weakened.

As Luke pulled back the curtain for them to walk through he stopped dead in his tracks for a moment, but walked fully into the diner to let Tristan through. As he walked into the diner Tristan could see what had made him stop in surprise.

"Hello," Logan's greeting wasn't exactly solicitous as he stood there, his hands jammed into his pockets.

"Logan," Luke greeted him even before Tristan could say a word, "I assume you noticed the closed sign on the door?"

"Not here for the coffee Luke," Logan replied, his eyes never leaving Tristan's face as he said the words. And Luke felt himself hoping that no matter what happened between Rory and Tristan that she kicked this punk's ass to the curb, even if his own comment had been a little snide.

"Have a minute Tristan?" Logan's voice was deceptively pleasant as he took a few steps closer.

"You know," Luke said as he put his hand on the doorknob, even though neither boy was paying attention to him. "I think I'm going to take a little walk in the middle of winter. That sounds like a good idea."

Neither Tristan nor Logan took notice as he let himself out the door. "I'm sorry," was what Tristan tried to say even as Luke cut him off.

"I assume you know you're no longer welcome at my dorm?" Logan's words were biting with sarcasm even as he uttered them.

"Anything I've left there will be gone once I get back," Tristan reassured him quietly, knowing there was nothing he could say that would make this situation better, that would take back his actions of the past 24 hours.

"So, I had this interesting conversation with Rory this morning," Logan's voice was still brimming with false cheer as he sat on a stool near the counter and swirled back and forth a little.

"Logan…." Tristan began wearily, not wanting to get into whatever little mind game Logan was playing.

"No, let me finish," Logan's voice was sharp and insistent as he raised his hand. "So, it turns out I was right all along and my friend decided it would be a good idea to screw my girlfriend when my grandfather collapsed last night, conveniently getting me out of the way."

"It wasn't like that," Tristan replied, but in many ways that was exactly what had happened.

"I've got all that from Rory already, so spare me," Logan's voice was in a mocking tone as he continued. " 'It wasn't like that'. 'It was love'. She thought I was going to be all understanding about this. But guess what Tristan? I'm not. I know both of you don't seem to believe it, but she meant something to me. And, you were my friend. I know there's no written code, but I think not sleeping with your friend's girlfriend would definitely be on the list."

"There's no excuse good enough." Tristan knew explanations weren't what Logan wanted to hear. He wanted a target for his anger, and Tristan was going to be it. Not that he didn't deserve it.

"She said that you refused to be with her? If that's some misguided loyalty thing to me, it came a little too late." Logan was still twirling back and forth on the stool, not taking his eyes from Tristan as he just stood there.

"Like I said, none of this was about you. Last night, or that." Tristan didn't know if that sounded too harsh, or if the stark truth was the way to go. "There's stuff you don't know about me Logan, and stuff between me and her. I slept with her yes, and we betrayed you, but just know you won't have to worry about seeing us walking around campus holding hands."

Logan seemed to test the thought in his mind, "As humiliating as that would have been, can't say it's much of a comfort. I'll still see her, and all I'll be able to see is the two of you, stabbing a knife in my back as you screwed in a diner."

"What more do you want me to say Logan?" Tristan shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "It was the ultimate betrayal by both of us, and you have every right to be angry and upset. But us talking about this isn't going to change anything." Tristan said no words about repairing the friendship. After last night he had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed, and the friendship hadn't been deep enough to begin with to withstand the storm.

"You know," Logan's word were almost thoughtful as he rose from the stool and began to walk towards Tristan. "I think you owe me any amount of talking I want to do, but I think you're correct; right now, words aren't going to solve anything." As he planted his feet directly in front of him, Tristan knew exactly what he meant by his statement.

"You know I was a soldier, right? Trained in unarmed combat?" he asked the questions even as he watched Logan's clenched fists.

"Yeah," Logan's tone was derisive, "good little soldier boy, I know. You know, for a minute there, I thought the military had actually instilled some code of honour in you. But I guess I was wrong, you're the same skirt-chasing son of a bitch you were before, maybe worse."

When Tristan stood there, unmoving, Logan lifted his fists, "Put them up," he ordered Tristan, who continued to let his hands hang at his sides.

If the whole situation weren't so serious, and so real, Tristan might have laughed at the absurdity of the situation. "I'm not going to fight you Logan," he shook his head as he uttered the quiet words.

His statement seemed to anger Logan more, "I'm not scared of you," he sneered at Tristan, "Military training doesn't intimidate me, I can take you. You owe me this."

At Tristan's shake of his head, Logan rammed a fist into his gut. "Put them up," he ordered again, his voice strained from the emotion.

"I'm not going to hit you," Tristan's words came out on a wheeze. He had forgotten how Logan had a solid punch. "I'm not going to retaliate, Logan, no matter what." It wasn't just that he could kill the boy with a single blow, he deserved anything Logan threw at him. He may not even have made that call had he not seen the few tears on Logan's face as he punched him.

And he never hit back, not when Logan punched him in the gut yet again, or rammed up under his chin. No matter how many times Logan hit him, ordered him to fight back, or called him a pussy, he just couldn't do it. All he could see as Logan hit him again and again were the tears on his cheeks, and he knew that even if last night wasn't some casual fuck, he had hurt Logan in a way the boy hadn't know possible, maybe even more because it hadn't been. And he deserved his revenge.

He barely noticed the slide into unconsciousness.


	18. Pain's inevitable, suffering is optional

**Title: **What Lies Within Us

Chp. 18 Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.

**Disclaimer:** Unless I morphed into a Palladino last night, I own nothing.

**Intro:** If you're looking for this now, I suggest reading some previous chapters.

**Rating: **PG-13

**Author's note: **Yeah! About a week to update, not two months. An improvement. See, being back in my own place is a good thing. And since some were concerned, sorry I wasn't clear; I'm going to finish the fic (soon-won't drag it on), I just wasn't going to if nobody cared anymore (it happens after two months). If I was writing this just for me, I should spend my time studying instead or something. And I want to take this opportunity to, if I haven't done it before, thank everyone who reviews. Not only does it give me feedback on the story, it gives me a very happy feeling every time the review alert shows up in my email.

PS For this chapter I did a little research on PTSD. Symptoms, TX, I wanted to be clear on things. I didn't just pull his actions out of my ass, it's consistent with the disorder ie. intense guilt, dreams, flashbacks, feeling if worthlessness to those closest, therapy, exposure therapy as tx, .

* * *

The first sensation Tristan had was like a drop of water on his head. Irritated, he tried to swat it away, content to lay there in the dream he was having. He was 18 again, and graduating Chilton. The sun was shining on the outdoor ceremony as rain would never dare intrude upon that prestigious day. He was listening to Rory giving her valedictorian address, feeling something swell inside him as she spared a glance for him, blushing slightly. And all the while he was secure in the knowledge that his parents sat just a few rows back, his father beaming with pride as he held a camcorder to preserve the moment. Even in his graduation robes he knew that if one looked underneath his clothing, his skin there would be smooth and unblemished. 

Again, he felt the coldness but he deftly ignored it, as he was secure in his dream world. He tried to recreate the sensation of the dream, even as he knew he was being pulled away from it, but it wouldn't come again. It was at that point that he knew what he was experiencing wasn't real, that it wasn't more than a hallucination, and his body allowed itself to awake.

As he opened his eyes he was greeted by the sight of Rory, leaning over him, pressing a cool cloth over his forehead, wiping it over his entire face, and for a moment it felt like he was in the dream again. That everything was okay, he was happy, there were no issues to resolve.

But the pain had started to intrude. He could feel the pain in his left eye, his split lip, and the bruises he was sure were already forming on his cheeks. His chest hurt, as did his stomach. And that's when it all came back to him and reality sunk in. He remembered it all.

Logan.

The well placed punch.

Her.

Them, or rather the lack there of.

He could see the moment that she realized he had awakened. Her hand hesitated in its ministrations, but continued gently on, trying to sooth. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. He didn't know if it was from his being here now, or from the way things had ended earlier, but he felt like an ass no matter what. He tried to ask a question, but the words came out a croak. He was lying on the couch in the Gilmore house, the couch he had spent the Christmas holidays sleeping in. His body ached from the blows to his stomach, his face and all over.

Tristan closed his eyes for a moment to regain his composure, and test for himself how he felt. But without the sight of her, the visual assurance that he was still on the Gilmore couch, his mind couldn't escape the flashback to the military hospital where he had first been admitted. The smell of decaying flesh, and blood were missing, but the physical abuse his body had undergone brought back the worst days of his life in horrifying clarity. The one punch Logan had gotten in on his right pectoral felt like the blunted pain he had after his injuries.

He knew Rory thought he had passed out again; she was desperately trying to revive him, shaking him and yelling for all she was worth. But he had slipped into a place where she could not reach, where she didn't belong.

* * *

"_You're lucky to be alive," were the quiet words of the nurse as she holds up a glass of water to Tristan's parched lips. He greedily drinks every sip, feeling the dehydration of sickness and the sweltering heat. _

"_What happened?" he croaks the words out. He hadn't felt the pain of his wounds then. The morphine drip they had him on took care of that._

"_An attack," was all she tells him, not elaborating, "I'm sure your commanding officer will be by to talk to you." _

_But it came back to him with her words; he didn't need Lieutenant Graves to come explain things to him. The face of the little girl flashed before his eyes, and he put it all together. He could offer no apologies before he leaned over the sparse cot and threw up, mere inches from the nurse's feet._

_He didn't feel so lucky to be alive then. _

* * *

_Dr. Ravindran sits across from him. As usual, Tristan refuses to be the first one to talk. It some ways it's like a game, a staring contest; see who can take it the longest. In reality it's not a game, not just some petty squabble. It's just that he has nothing to say, in his mind it's all been said. He knows he's fucked up, but these sessions with the psychiatrist every second day do nothing for him. They've covered every aspect of his life, and he has nothing left to give._

"_You didn't kill your squadron," and as usual, he's forced the good doctor to speak first. She doesn't ease into their conversations anymore, doesn't waste time with polite chit chat. She just dives into the heart of the issue right away. He knows she sees it as some sort of semi-shock therapy._

"_I know," he replies, because that's what she wants to hear, but he doesn't really mean it. He wasn't the one who designed and detonated the bomb, but he could have stopped it all the same. There are reasons, logistics, excuses, but nothing changes the fact that if he had just pulled the trigger they wouldn't be sitting her today in these circumstances._

_Tristan wishes she would stop trying to make him feel better. He knows the responsibility he has in what happened. Others know it too. It was in the eyes of Lieutenant Graves, his commanding officer, the time he stopped by to discuss the incident. He told the lieutenant of the circumstances, he had to; there was no holding it in. If he'd kept his mouth shut nobody would know the role he played but himself, but by telling Graves about seeing the little girl it was exposed to the world. He wants people to blame him, god knows he blames himself._

_He glances out the window of the doctor's pretty corner office. Sometimes he almost thinks that he can see his parent's house off in the distance. It's not from the hospital that he's been at since he got back to the States; 22.2 miles, he googled it. He knows that the good doctors are worried about his "support system", or rather, lack of it, when he finally leaves here. Here, while he still recovers from the physical damage done to him, they can keep up their subtle suicide watch on him. He's not blind, he knows they're worried. They've been as blatant about it as they can be without locking him in a padded room with no sharp corners. Not that they don't have a point, sometimes the drugs in the cabinets or the razor he shaves with have begun to look awfully good. _

"_Have you still been having the dreams?" she asks the question, not even having to glance down at the clipboard to know the details of his case. He's been one of her primary patients this past couple weeks, and he knows she takes his care personally. He and the good doc don't get to talk about her personal life, but from the talk of others he knows that she has a sister stationed overseas, and a father who died in the Gulf War. Maybe that's why he's been more willing to play this little game with her, rather than let his anger show like he did with the last doctor he saw before he came here. If he acts like he did before, he knows they'll find some plausible excuse to keep him here once his wounds have healed and he's completed physical therapy, so he pretends at full cooperation._

"_Yes," he replies, but knows she isn't satisfied with the monosyllabic answer, so he elaborates, and lets more truth slip through than he normally would, "They come and go, and the worst I had was last Monday night." Monday the 28th, the 3 month anniversary of the bombing. They both know the significance of the date._

_She nods, and he watched as she makes a note. He's surprised by how earnest she looks as she leans forward. "Tristan," she begins as she rests a hand on his knee, personal contact that he's been lacking for the past months, "What do you know about post-traumatic stress disorder?"_

* * *

_He stands in front of the hospital, waiting for a cab. This hospital was no different from any other; they insistent on wheeling you out. So he had gone through the hallways in the hospital, decked out in his dress uniform with his one bag of meagre belongings as an orderly had pushed him down._

_There was nobody waiting, he knew there wouldn't be. He knew his parents were expecting his release today, and that he would come there, but that was as far as it went. So he asked Betty, his favourite nurse to call him a cab, ignoring the look of pity in her eyes as she went to do so._

_He can still feel the barely healed wounds in his chest and back. He doesn't have to see them to know that they are there. Excessive physical therapy has allowed him full range of motion again, but the scars will never fade. He's got the literature from Dr. Ravindran in his duffel bag. He's pretty sure he's read every article known to man on PTSD by now; probably knows just as much about it as the doc. But for him, it's personal, not his vocation. Not yet._

_As the cab pulls up, he tosses his bag and gets in, giving directions to his parents mansion._

* * *

_Christina lay beside him in bed, snoring softly, but Tristan couldn't sleep. He lay there, staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling above him. They were in her apartment, where she'd taken him after dinner. He had known what she wanted, and he wanted it too. She was the first one he even wanted to sleep with since he'd been stateside, the first one he'd cared enough about to even try this relationship thing. _

_After tonight, he didn't think he'd be trying again._

_He had seen the revulsion in her face when she looked at the scars once his shirt had hit the floor. The way she had avoided touching them at all costs. Sure they'd had sex, that was the only way to describe it. Any emotion they had started the evening with was gone. She chose to sleep on her side of the bed, despite being a natural cuddler, because that would have meant resting part of her on his chest. The sex was as awkward as it had been the first time he tried sex as a fourteen year old virgin, even if at least this time he had managed to get her off. _

_He knew it wouldn't go beyond tonight, even if he had once harboured delusions otherwise. Maybe he wasn't giving her enough credit, but as much as they liked each other, it wasn't going to go deeper. Before tonight she hadn't seen beyond the romance of a man in uniform._

_He had got his acceptance letter to Yale that morning. He would be heading off there soon enough. It was the perfect excuse to end whatever this was between them without delving into the deeper issues._

_Tristan was going to go to Yale, he was going to go to med school, and he was going to try and atone for his mistake by saving as many lives as he could, even if it would never balance out. The military paying for it meant any life saving he would be doing would be done for the army, but that was what he wanted. Confront the fears. It was his own version of the "exposure therapy" the shrink had suggested, but instead in a completely uncontrolled environment. But it was what he wanted; atonement came before anything else._

* * *

"Tristan," Rory's insistent use of his name, and the puny hands shaking his shoulders with surprising force entered into his reverie. And then he was back in the present, knowing full well that he was in the Gilmore house, not some hospital. 

"What am I doing here?" Tristan asked, studiously avoiding the concerned look in her eyes. He knew it wasn't just because of his bruises; it was because of the few minutes he spent lost to the world.

He knew Rory was aware of his side stepping the issue, but she pretended nothing else was wrong. Now that the urgency had passed, she refused to look him in the eyes, avoiding him even as she cared for him. "Logan panicked when you passed out, and he got Luke to bring you here. Luke and my mom have gone to get Dr. Allan, a retired surgeon who lives in town. We were scared we might have to get you to a hospital. It was Logan and Luke's choice to bring you here, not mine." She tacked on the last part hurriedly, scared he'd think she hadbrought him here against his will like some desperate stalker.

"Just a few punches, I've had worse," and he has, but that didn't stop him from feeling like he just got run over by a bus. Gingerly, he tried to sit up, wincing at the pain in his chest. Logan had gotten a good run at him, able to do anything he wanted when Tristan refused to fight back. Even now he could picture the unluckily placed blow Logan had got on his face, knocking him into unconsciousness. "Logan?" he asked the question by the name, not able to say more as he grimaced at the pain of speaking.

"Gone back to school," Rory's tone had turned icy at the mention of her ex-boyfriend's name, since she could see the result of his handiwork lying prostrate on the couch in front of her. "I didn't think his presence would be a good idea after he beat you to a bloody pulp."

They both opened their mouths, about to say something more, when the door burst open to reveal her mother, Luke, and Dr. Allan. In other circumstance Rory would find the bag that the doctor carried humorous, like something from the 1800s. Of course with how old the doctor was, that might be the case.

"You're awake." Rory heard the relief in Luke's voice at the statement of fact. Tristan's weary nod gave the unneeded confirmation.

"I still need to check you out son," Dr. Allan reminded him, pushing him back down as Tristan tried to stand. "Need to do our best to back sure there is no permanent damage." He shooed Rory out of the chair she was sitting in so he could get a closer seat beside his patient.

"We'll leave the two of you alone," Lorelai told the doctor with a smile, looking pointedly at Rory who seemed to have no intention of leaving. She wanted to stand there, protecting Tristan and supporting him, but at her mothers pointed glare she followed her and Luke into the kitchen.

"I'll make coffee," were the first words out of Luke's mouth as they entered the kitchen. It was his first response in the face of any sort of crisis, it was the role he played. He was the provider of the caffeine-infested beverage, and when he had no other recourse with then, it was the role he returned too.

"Thanks Luke," Lorelai told him, squeezing his arm gently in appreciation as she went to sit down at the table. The two of them had never gotten into giving pet names to one another. She pulled out her chair to sit, and motioned Rory to do the same.

"So, he's awake," Lorelai summed it up, repeating the obvious statement that Luke had made upon walking in the house.

"Yes," Rory answered, nodding her head.

"And he seems fine?" Lorelai asked concernedly, "You know, all ten fingers and toes and the like?"

"I didn't do a physical mom," Rory replied sarcastically, "But outside of some nasty bruises and some pain, he seemed fine. All his mental faculties seemed to be intact, no trauma induced amnesia. He even remembered the name of who was kicking the crap out of him."

"Logan." When her mother breathed the name it was with even more resentment than Rory had shown earlier. "I was half expecting him to be here when we got back. In fact I was hoping it, just so we could kick the little punk's ass."

"He was going to stay," Rory admitted, wrapping her hands together, "He was panicked at the sight of Tristan passed out. But after you guys left, I practically threw him out, telling him we wouldn't be in contact again unless Tristan decided to press charges."

Luke joined them at the table, the coffee brewing, as Lorelai threw up her hands in frustration. "Damned right. What the hell was he thinking? It's called assault buster, and after a few pics of Tristan's smashed up body I don't think even daddy's lawyers will be getting him out of this one."

"There won't be charges," this quiet observation came from Luke, and Lorelai looked at him in shock.

"Of course there will." She was indignant at any suggestion otherwise.

"No, I don't think there will," Luke insisted, taking her hand in his. "Logan told me what happened Lorelai, half babbling as we carted Tristan over here. He was angry with Tristan, for…….you know. He wanted to fight him, hurt him, but Tristan refused to fight back. If the boy refused to fight him, even as he bruised and hurt him, and knocked him into unconsciousness, he's certainly not going to file charges. He could have taken Logan out in a single blow, and he did nothing."

"No, it's not going to be that simple," Lorelai felt the anger that Rory was still to upset over the situation to feel. "We're not going to appease that little bastard. I don't know what Tristan was thinking letting himself get hurt like that, possibly seriously, but this ends here. I know you two screwed up and hurt him, but that doesn't give Logan a license to act like this. Nothing does. First he comes in here and takes emotional shots at my daughter, and then he goes and takes physical ones at Tristan. I don't care how hurt he is, this ends here."

They were all interrupted by the sound of a throat clearing behind them. Rory turned to see Tristan standing in the entrance to the kitchen, the doctor standing beside him. She could see his startled look at Lorelai's words, but before he could enquire further Dr. Allan began to speak.

"We're done Lorelai," he told her mother with a smile, slipping his jacket on. "Doesn't look like there will be a need for a rush to the ER in Hartford tonight."

"Thanks doc," Lorelai replied gratefully, slipping into the nickname the town called him by despite his being retired for over 10 years. Dr. Allan just nodded in response, and let himself out the front door.

Rory looked over at Tristan, "You're okay?' she asked, belatedly realizing that she was pretending things were more normal between them, that the past 24 hours hadn't happened.

But he nodded, "As far as he can tell. I should be fine, he just warned me about going to the hospital if I get dizzy, or get headaches. None of the ribs seem to be broken, but if the pain persists I should go get an x-ray. He's a little worried about the eye, and I should let someone examine it in a week or so when the swelling goes down."

"You just stood there while he hit you?" Rory demanded, his swollen face still effecting her. "You did nothing but let him damage to the point you might be permanently injured?" She had been passive before, but the sight of him effected her still.

But Tristan didn't seem to hear a word she said, demanding instead, "What's your mom talking about, that he came in here and took emotional shots at you?"

"He was upset, we argued," was all Rory replied simplistically. It was the truth as far as it went. But at the sound of her mother's snort, she turned around to glare at Lorelai, begging her to leave it alone. "It was nothing," she emphasized as she turned back to Tristan.

Tristan ignored her and turned to her mother, "Lorelai?"

Her mother was upset past the point of discretion. "Yeah, nothing. He comes in here and calls my daughter a whore, and it's nothing."

She was angry at Logan herself, but she didn't expect the overreaction of the other two men standing in the kitchen. She could see Tristan's face turn to stone, and Luke sprang to his feet. "I'll kill him," he swore, looking like he was going to go out and find a shotgun that very moment.

"I'll go with you," Tristan chimed in, and from a look at his face Rory knew he wasn't really kidding about it.

"You let him beat you to a pulp, but now you're going to hurt him? Because of one insult thrown in anger at me?" Her tone was incredulous as she looked him at him.

"He can't say those things about you," and to Tristan that logic seemed to explain his perfectly unreasonable reaction.

"I cheated on him last night Tristan, with you. He had a right to be upset. I'm not justifying his actions, I'm just explaining them. I was willing to take a lot from him because of what I did, but not that. I kicked him out when he went that far. Unlike some people, I wasn't willing to let him permanently damage me for my mistake." She looked pointedly at his lip that had started bleeding again.

And, as he grabbed a Kleenex and wiped at it gently, she couldn't resist throwing back at him, "Besides, I'm not yours to protect in any way Tristan. You made that perfectly clear this morning." She wondered if the bitterness she heard in her voice was as apparent to him as it was to her. As he opened his mouth to speak, she could see the rejection in his eyes again, and she pulled what pride she had left after this whole day around her. "Never mind, forget I said anything," she interjected hastily, unable to control the sheen of tears but refusing to let them fall. "I'm not going to force you into anything you don't want, I have my pride, and I'll save us from any more nasty emotional scenes."

"Rory," her name was soft, barely an escape of breath from his lips, but he didn't say anything else, just looked at her with pleading eyes to let it be. To drop it.

They didn't say anything else to one another, but stayed locked in each others gaze, both refusing to look away. But finally Tristan gave, breaking his eyes away from her. "Will you give me that ride now Luke?" he asked, looking determinedly at the older man and away from Rory.

"Yeah," Luke's tone was defeated as he agreed. He had given his word, and he would drive Tristan back no matter how much he disagreed with his decisions. It was tempting to make a side stop at the parents house of a certain blonde boy, but he would repress the anger for Rory's sake.

"My stuff is still at your place," Tristan added unnecessarily since he wouldn't have been capable of carrying it over here while unconscious, and Luke nodded, acknowledging they would have to stop on the way.

They all stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do, how to leave. But Lorelai broke the silence by saying to Tristan. "You're welcome here anytime Tristan." Her words were simple but the meaning was sincere. Even though he was breaking her daughters heart, ranting and raving would help nothing.

He nodded, a lump in his throat. "Thank you Lorelai." There wasn't much else to say. What was he going to do, apologize for sleeping with her daughter and leaving? It sounded callous, and cold, but there was more too it, and he knew the elder Gilmore knew it. Their acceptance of him in the face of everything made him want to indoctrinate himself into their lives forever, but his leaving now was the best for everyone.

He turned to the door, trying desperately to avoid Rory's eyes to make his going easier for everyone. And she, as promised, tried to spare him and messy emotional scenes and said nothing. He thanked his lucky stars for that mercy, even as it hurt. He didn't think he could do it again, reinforce his decision not to be with her. He had tried to hitchhike back to Yale in order to avoid this again. He was barely strong enough to leave the first time, if she asked he wasn't sure he could do it again.

"Goodbye," was all he tossed over his shoulder, walking quickly towards the door. It was a hard and unfeeling farewell, but there was no other way to go about it and keep their dignities intact. He walked quickly to the door and exited, shutting it firmly behind him. Effectively shutting Rory out for good.

Luke shrugged apologetically and kissed Lorelai on the cheek as he followed Tristan's path. He paused momentarily only to squeeze Rory's arm in comfort before he too was gone.

With the sudden emptiness of the house, the two Gilmore girls stood in the kitchen silently for a moment, not moving. Then Lorelai walked slowly over to her daughter, wanting to support her, expecting Rory to be distraught with Tristan's departure. But her daughter wasn't even crying, she was staring calmly ahead at the entrance the boys had just disappeared through.

"Mom," she began, her tone resolute even as she didn't look at Lorelai. "Can I borrow the jeep?" The jeep had better snow tires.

"Where do you want to go?" Lorelai asked, a little worried at Rory's reaction.

"I need to take a drive," Rory's voice was deceptively mild at the request, but she didn't elaborate further.

* * *

Yes, Tristan's going back to Yale without Rory. But this is a _Trory_ fic. 

And yes, some of this felt a little rushed to me too when writing it, I just didn't know how to change it effectively. If I can think of a way to redo it, I'll repost it after.


	19. Putting It All On the Line

**Title: **What Lies Within Us

Chp. 19 Putting It All On the Line

**Disclaimer:** Unless I morphed into a Palladino last night, I own nothing. Hell, even the title comes from a quote by someone else.

**Intro:** If you're looking for this now, I suggest reading some previous chapters.

**Rating: **PG-13

**Author's note:** A little shorter than usual, yes. But still high quality (ok, so I ALWAYS think what I write is high quality). A little longer to update cause I wasn't exactly sure how I was going to go where I wanted with the fic - fortunately I figured it out.

This would have been out faster, but I got sidetracked writing a one parter _Ghosts of Boyfriends Past_ which very few people read. But you know, sometimes when inspiration strikes you can't ignore it.

* * *

Tristan sat in Luke's truck, his head resting against the window. Every so often they would go over a bump, and his head would smack against the glass, but he would still just allow it to sit there. Somehow he didn't think he had the energy to hold it up anymore. Lack of sleep, emotional exhaustion, physical bruising and pain medication didn't exactly make him feel up to jogging around the block. 

He and Luke hadn't said much in the whole time since they had left the Gilmore's. They had stopped back at Luke's place to grab all Tristan's stuff, and then they were on their way back to Yale. After all this, it was still New Year's Day, but Tristan needed to get out. Deep down he hoped the physical distance would make the situation easier, when he wasn't confronted with what he was leaving behind. Logically he knew in a few days Rory would come back to school, but it was a big campus, and it wasn't her home turf. It would be easy enough to become a recluse.

"Where are you going to stay?" Luke asked as he skidded a little on an icy patch.

Tristan hadn't thought that far ahead yet. All he had thought about was getting out, getting back. It had never really computed that he would no longer be welcome at Logan's, and he wouldn't be able to get situated in his new dorm until the university officially reopened in a couple days. "I have a friend I can stay with," he lied, knowing that there were places open on campus all day a person could sleep if they were desperate.

Luke looked disbelieving, but he said nothing, knowing pressing the issue would do no good. "This _friend's_ place I'm dropping you at, is it on campus?"

Tristan side stepped the issue, "Just drop me at Logan's. I left a few things there to pick up, and Jordan is in the same dorm." Never mind he had never met anyone named Jordan. He was becoming quite proficient at the art of lying.

"And Logan lives…….?" Luke let his voice trail off, having no idea where Rory's ex's place was on campus

Tristan gave him the name of Logan's dorm, which wasn't far from Rory's, and leaned back against the window, just waiting for the buildings of Yale to come into view.

* * *

Rory sat behind the wheel of her mother's jeep, which she hadn't driven since her high school graduation. She was manoeuvring her way through the streets of Stars Hollow. It was a holiday, but she waved to some people she knew as she drove by, out enjoying the winter weather. 

Twilight had set in, and gave Stars Hollow that mystical feeling. But no place in town was her final destination. She was headed back to Yale. Not because she felt the need to study between terms, it was to talk to Tristan.

She could have had it out with him in her mother's kitchen, but it wasn't the place. Not with her mother and Luke standing around. For their discussion they needed privacy, preferably a room where she could lock Tristan in there with her and he wouldn't escape until she had her say. She understood his reasoning for all this angst, but knew it was a load of crap at the same time. Maybe he thought he was being considerate, but walking away from her was hurting her more than any other issues he may have.

Rory had never had to be the pursuer before. In relationships, she had always been the pursuee. She had never had to fight for what she really wanted. She wasn't going to say that her relationships had always been happy go lucky, but they had been easy. As soon as anything got difficult, it was the end, and she had never forced the issue. She liked to think it was because she knew that none of them had been right for her, but it wasn't that romantic. It was that she was a chicken shit; scared of being hurt, scared of putting it out there. Saying so much as an "I Love You" almost gave her an ulcer, risking more had never happened.

She had no idea how to do it with Tristan, but knew she had to try. He was worth it, they were worth it. It wasn't like she was going out on a limb admitting her feelings, she knew they were reciprocated. It was the whole other stack of emotional baggage that she had to tackle. This endeavour might cost her carefully guarded pride, but she had to make the attempt. She would never be able to move past it if she just let him walk out of her life, because she had no doubt he would go out of his way to avoid her in the future, despite being at the same university.

One of the most commonly asked questions was 'when do you know you're in love'? Before the last couple days Rory couldn't have answered that question, now she could. What she had thought was love before didn't even compare; she had loved Dean and Jess, but it wasn't the same kind of love. It wasn't a consummate love like this. When her mother assured her that she would find someone else, Rory knew that it wouldn't happen. Love like she had for Dean and Jess was fine, but when you've known something else, you can't settle for anything less.

She pulled out onto the highway out of Stars Hollow, heading to Yale. She knew that it wasn't a long drive, after all she had done it every weekend. Initially she had thought it would be ideal to give her time to think about what to say to Tristan, but knew in the end she could do nothing but play it by ear. You couldn't script out something like this, as tempting as it was for her to try.

Carefully she controlled the jeep as she drove down the road. With the new snow and the cold night, it was icy on highway. She wasn't the most confident driver in most circumstances, and in weather like this she didn't want to go at much more than a crawl.

Rory knew they had gotten a head start on her. Even with the stop they had to make at Luke's they would have been gone long before her. Getting out of her house hadn't been easy. She hadn't wanted to say where she was going, but Lorelai wouldn't let her go until she told her. That woman was persistent, as Rory had learned after years of living with her. She knew Lorelai didn't truly understand how much she had to do this. In many ways she and her mother were alike, not wanting to risk being hurt.

She could see the car coming towards her and she checked to make sure she had her headlights on. Often when it was dusk like this she tended to forget.

Unfortunately headlights don't help when an oncoming car skids on a patch of ice.

* * *

Tristan slid out of Luke's truck as soon as they had parked in front of Logan's dorm, and Luke killed the engine. The drive to Yale had seemed to take an eternity, neither man sure what to say to one another. Dead silence made for an uncomfortable trip. 

"Thanks, for everything," Tristan told Luke, a massive understatement. He held out his hand, and watched as the older man shook it after letting out a heavy sigh.

Tristan could tell that Luke was reluctant to let him go, but knew he couldn't stop him. "You going to be okay?" was all he asked, not sure how else to put it. And although neither would admit they were talking about anything else, they knew he was talking about more than just Tristan's physical state.

Tristan nodded, lifting his heavy bag out of Luke's truck, not saying anything else in response. Save for some clothing and personal items still at Logan's, the contents of this duffel bag were all he had in the world. And he knew that tucked in there somewhere was an MCAT book, the cover full of Rory's writing. He couldn't bring himself to leave it behind. He wasn't sure what to say to Luke, how to end this awkward moment, so he just stood there, resting against the open truck door.

There was so much Luke wanted to say to the younger man, but he recognized the traits of himself at twenty one, of any man at twenty one. That was the problem with youth, one always felt that they knew best. Imparting the wisdom one had learned over forty odd years of trial and error would just fall on deaf ears. This was a mistake that had to be made, and Luke would have to let him make it. It went against every instinct ingrained in him, but this wasn't in his realm of control.

Sometimes when Lorelai teased him about hiding a blatant busybody under his stern, flannel clad exterior, she wasn't too far off.

"Good luck," was all he said gruffly to Tristan, giving the younger man a little half wave, and only watched as Tristan nodded back, and slammed the door shut before heading on his way. He knew as well as Tristan did that there was no 'Jordan', but there wasn't anything he could do about it.

Tristan slowly walked into the building, and made his way to Logan's dorm room so he could pick up his stuff and get out. The building was silent, the normal hustle and bustle of student life temporarily suspended for the holidays. Logically he knew that he could probably crash there for a couple days as Logan and his roommate would be nowhere near the place until school started up again, but even if Logan would never know, he couldn't take advantage like that.

He slid the key into the door. It would be easy enough for him to grab his stuff and leave the key behind, then he would never have to face Logan again. It was surprisingly easy how willing he was to just forget their friendship. Of course, after the events of the past couple days, there would be no other option.

Of course that plan didn't take into account the fact that he would find Logan sitting on his couch, playing video games.

"What are you doing here?" he couldn't keep the shock out of his voice. Logan was supposed to be at his parents, not lounging around by himself in his dorm room for the rest of the break.

Logan glanced up from the game. "I wasn't in the mood for other people," he replied. He was about to take the game off pause, but then he fully took in Tristan's appearance. He hesitate a moment, then put down his controller. "You okay?" the words were short, and he refused to look Tristan in the eye, but the question was still asked.

"Likely," was all Tristan was willing to give in return. This moment was awkward, but not in the same way it could have been. He wasn't uncomfortable being in Logan's presence because of mere guilt, it was also because he had to control his temper.

"Sorry," Logan's apology was hesitant, but he was enough of a man to know it had to be said. "I was just so angry, I didn't mean to……that."

"It's done," Tristan wasn't in the mood to get into a conversation with him over this. "Besides, I'm not the only one you have to apologize too."

"I take it Rory told you about our conversation this morning," Logan's tone was dry as he figured out what Tristan was making reference too. When Tristan nodded his reply, Logan just shook his head, "I know I wasn't exactly kind Tristan, but I don't owe her anything. In case you forgot, my girlfriend had sex with you. I haven't forgiven you either, but that's no excuse for the fact that I left you unconscious."

As much as Tristan wanted to plow his fist into Logan's stomach, he knew it wasn't the right course of action. "I'll get my stuff," was all he replied, knowing that a conversation between the two of them would solve nothing.

Logan watched as Tristan walked into the living room, his makeshift bedroom of the past couple weeks, where his few remaining things were stored under the coffee table. "You have a place to stay?" he asked, leaning against the wall.

Tristan shook his head, even as he shoved his stuff into a plastic bag. He looked at Logan with a sarcastic half smile on his face, "You offering?"

"No," Logan gave a half bark of laughter as he realized how out of place his question was.

Finally Tristan stood up, his stuff all place. "I'll get out of your way," was all he said quietly as he walked towards the door.

"Were we friends?" Logan's voice stopped him as he reached the door. Tristan turned around, not sure what to say, and Logan asked again, "When you came back, were we even really friends?"

Tristan wasn't sure how to answer that. When he had met up with Logan again, he was a changed person while Logan had stayed essentially the same way he had been since childhood. But as much as they were different people, there was more there than just gratitude for Logan taking him in when he needed it. "I'd like to think so," was all he said, giving the only honest answer he had.

"Huh," was all Logan replied as he nodded. And, as Tristan let himself out of the dorm, he added thoughtfully, "That makes this whole fucked up situation that much worse."

Tristan shut the door behind him, finally all his stuff with him. He didn't know what the next step was, and didn't care. At this point he would be content to go find some empty classroom and just crash for the next couple hours. He hadn't exactly gotten a lot of sleep the night before. But as he moved to go, he was surprised to see Luke standing in the foyer of the dorm, looking a little frantic.

"Luke?" he asked, walking down the hall to meet him.

"Tristan!" he could hear the relief in Luke's voice even as the man jogged up to him. "I wasn't sure where to find you, I had no idea which room was Logan's."

"What is it?" Tristan had no idea what could have Luke so anxious, and looking for him. Just a few minutes ago he was sure he would never see the man again.

"Lorelai just called my cell," Luke grabbed his arm and propelled him along. "It's Rory. There was an accident."

And with those few little words, Tristan felt the pit of his stomach drop out.

* * *

_Not too much to go……._


	20. Personal Demons

_sorry if you get any alerts twice; there seemed to be a problem updating this chapter the first time_

**Title: **What Lies Within Us

Chp. 20 Personal Demons

**Disclaimer:** Unless I morphed into a Palladino last night, I own nothing. Hell, even the title comes from a quote by someone else.

**Intro:** If you're looking for this now, I suggest reading some previous chapters.

**Rating: **PG-13

**Author's note:** Sorry, sorry, sorry. So I haven't gotten this chapter out due to having no spare time these past couple weeks. And technically I don't have it now, but inspiration struck and wouldn't let me go, so I am forgoing sleep for this. Nearly every single review I got didn't talk about the story, but instead was along the lines of 'update now'. And, longer chapter, even if it's not up to the 9000 words or so that there were, for example, for chp 14.

And, normally I don't respond to individual reviews due to the fact it takes up so much space, but I just want to address the one about how this is becoming like every other ffnet story as Rory got into a car accident. I completely understand your point. I struggled with the idea of it happening as I had the same thought when I was writing it, but her indisposition was a necessary plot point, and I thought it was better than having her get struck by lightning as it fit with the timeline of the story. I'd describe why it was a necessary plot point, but that would sort of ruin things. I'm hoping the story doesn't finish too clichéd.

* * *

"What happened?" Tristan finally found the nerve to ask the question once they were back on the highway. Before they had just been concerned with getting out of Yale as fast as possible, and getting to Rory. Even now Luke was driving like a demon, weaving in and out of traffic and probably doubling the speed limit. 

"She was hit by an oncoming car," Luke's words were grim as he stayed focused on the road, not wanting them to meet with their own accident on the way there. "They called Lorelai from the hospital as Rory had her number programmed in her cell. They wouldn't give her any other details until she got there." It was hard to speak normally at this point, when the girl who was like a daughter to him may or may not be alive. He felt himself choking up, but ignored it, focusing on his driving and other practicalities to avoid thinking about the worst case scenario.

"So Lorelai doesn't know if she's okay?" Only the hitch in Tristan's voice betrayed the fears bubbling up inside him. He knew as well as Luke did that at this point Lorelai didn't even know if her daughter was alive.

Luke didn't answer that directly, not wanting to focus on the answer. "She'll be fine," was all he replied determinedly, if for the simple fact that he and Lorelai could take no other solution. All he could here in his mind was Lorelai's broken voice over the phone as she had told him Rory had been in an accident. And the fact that she had to go face it at the hospital all alone until he got there.

"Thank you for getting me," Tristan told him, knowing that Luke could have taken off as soon as he heard the news. Tristan would have spent the remainder of the holidays oblivious to anything of the situation, not knowing anything had happened. As he thought about it now, he had no place rushing to her bedside, but that had never occurred to him as he had ran behind Luke to his truck.

Luke just nodded. It had never occurred to him not to find Tristan before leaving, even if now he saw why Tristan had thought he wouldn't. But he had seen the stricken look that had hit Tristan's face when he had heard the news, saw the paleness of his features even now, and he knew he had done the right thing. Even if Rory was d……no matter what, no matter how things played out after, she should have all the people there who loved her.

* * *

"Where's my daughter?" Lorelai's voice was close to hysterical as she approached the front desk in the emergency room. The smell and the atmosphere brought back every experience she'd had in a hospital. Her father's heart attack, Rory's birth…… 

"Who's your daughter?" The nurse behind the desk, while not of the most soothing nature, was used to the people who came into the emergency room crazed with worry.

"Rory Gilmore, Lorelai Gilmore," Lorelai corrected herself as she remembered what name would legally be on Rory's drivers license.

She could see as the woman flipped through some papers, then looked up at her, her face inscrutable. "If you'd like to have a seat……" she began, her arm motioning towards the waiting room as she held out a clipboard.

"No, no!" Lorelai was already panicked at the expression on the woman's face. "I am not going to sit there and wait, I'm not going to fill out some bloody forms, I am going to wait right here and make your life a living hell until some tells me what the hell is going on."

"Relax, ma'am," the nurse's voice was firm, but empathetic. "I'm going to get the doctor to talk to you. We just need some information on your daughter to make sure our records are up to date; allergies, surgeries etc. we need to make sure we know it all."

Lorelai relaxed slightly, but only a little. If they needed that information, that meant that Rory was alive. They wouldn't care what a corpse was allergic to. Thinking that word in her mind shocked her, but now that she believed Rory was alive it didn't have the same effect. "I'm going to stand _here_ and fill it all out while I wait for the doctor," she emphasized the word carefully as she leaned against the counter, not wanting to give in, but trying to avoid going postal on the nurse.

As the woman went in search of the doctor, Lorelai tried to fill out the forms she had been handed, but found that she couldn't. Her hands began to shake uncontrollably, and even holding the pen with both hands didn't help. She glanced guiltily at the other nurse behind the desk, knowing that she might come off as some junkie, completely strung out. There was something about hospitals, or rather her daughter in the hospital, that reduced her from the self-confident woman she was to a blubbering mess.

The family history section blurred before her watering eyes, and she wanted nothing more than for this to be some horrid dream. She wished that there had been no ringing of the phone, no impartial man on the other end, refusing to tell her nothing but that her daughter had been in an accident, allowing her to think the worst. And at the very least, she wished Luke was there with her. This was supposed to be one of the benefits of the committed relationship, not doing it all alone anymore.

Her concentration shot to pieces, she watched as the nurse returned with the doctor, and she wanted to cry at how grim the older woman's face looked. "Rory?' she tried to make her voice steady, not able to expand her question beyond her daughters single name, and she knew she sounded decades younger than her years.

"Ms. Gilmore," the woman's voice was brisk, the tone of someone who had become desensitized to the excess of emotions. "Your daughter has some sustained some serious injuries, but the worst of the problems lays in that her spleen was ruptured as a result of the accident, as well as some other internal bleeding. We're going to be taking her into surgery as soon as the surgeon comes down."

Lorelai found herself bracing herself on the counter. "Is she going to be allright?" her words were soft.

For all her briskness, the woman was empathetic. "There are no guarantees," her voice was gentle as she watched Lorelai's fingers turn white from their tight grip on the counter. "She's had some severe injuries. We hope that a splenectomy, removing her spleen, will stop the worst of her problems, but as with any surgeries there are risks. Hopefully her other injuries will not complicate anything, and we can treat everything. We are going to do everything we can for your daughter Ms.Gilmore, don't worry."

Not able to reply with words, Lorelai just nodded, and the woman reached out and squeezed her arm. "I need to get back to your daughter. But as soon as you finish with the forms Doris will take you to the surgical waiting room. We will come find you the second that we know anything. If you have any questions, just let us know." She motioned to the nurse behind her who stepped forward before the doctor hurried away.

Lorelai allowed herself to be lowered into a chair, and found herself fumbling around in her purse for her cell phone. "I'm sorry," the nurse said gently, putting her hand over Lorelai's before she could flip open the phone, "You can't use those in the hospital."

She gave a half laugh, almost devoid of humour as she was reminded of the enforced policy at Luke's. What was the point of having a cell phone if you couldn't use it? But before she could let her emotions overtake her and try to fight with the nurse, the woman motioned towards the desk. "I have a phone back there you can use."

* * *

The drive to the hospital was spent in near silence, both men sick with worry. And at this point there was little to say. Both knew that any platitudes that they shared would be meaningless, and they were still male enough to not speak about the emotions affecting them both. 

Tristan had no control over the thoughts that were racing through his mind. All he could focus on was the worst case scenario, he excelled at that. All he could picture was her body, bloody and broken, when really he knew he was imposing her face on the body of his friend Isaac's mangled body in Iraq. It was one thing to voluntary give her up, knowing she was allright, it was another to think of literally living without her; of any of them living without her. And as was his wont, he could do nothing but blame himself, knowing she had got in the accident coming after him.

They pulled up to the hospital, tires squealing. Tristan knew that Luke had to resist the urge to simply leave the truck at the ER entrance, but went through the hassle of parking in the available lot. They were both out of the vehicle instantaneously, ready to rush into the hospital when Luke's cell phone rang.

"Hello?" he stopped short, flipping open the phone quickly when he saw Lorelai's name on the call display. "We're almost there Lorelai."

Tristan watched as he had a conversation over the phone, unable to hear anything but Luke's one-sided responses. He wanted to demand to know what was going on, but forced himself to wait patiently while Luke spoke, knowing forcing it would solve nothing. But while the worried expression never left Luke's face, there was no devastation that would have come if he had learned Rory had died.

As Luke hung up the phone, Tristan looked at him expectantly, struck by how old Luke looked under the stress of the situation. "Rory's in surgery," he told Tristan quietly. "She's just going in now. She's got a ruptured spleen and other injuries."

Tristan sucked in his breath at the news. "Is she going to be………?"

Luke sighed and cut him off before he could finish, "They don't know," he gave the answer Lorelai had given him, her voice breaking at the news. He ran his hand over his face, composing himself before looking back at Tristan. "Let's get inside." He wanted to be there, not just to be there first hand, but to be there for Lorelai.

As they made their way to the hospital, they were still in a hurry, but not at the sprinting pace they were before. Tristan wanted to curse whoever designed parking at hospitals. Not only did they take advantage of the prices people would pay to visit their loved ones in the hospital, it seemed an unwritten rule that the lots would be far away from the door.

After debating they decided it was best to go in through the emergency entrance. Tristan followed behind Luke as the determined man strode through the automatic doors. As soon as he entered the hospital, and the smell and then the memories hit him, he had a reaction he hadn't been prepared for.

He ran back out of the hospital.

Tristan was ten feet from the hospital doors, panting heavily when Luke caught up with him. "What's going on?" he demanded as Tristan stopped at the sound of Luke's voice.

He didn't answer right away, he couldn't. He didn't know how to explain. "I can't," was all he replied, his voice helpless.

"Can't what?" he could hear the impatience in Luke's voice.

"Go in," Tristan admitted, hanging his head, unable to look at the other man.

It was a reaction he hadn't been expecting, although in all respects he should have. It was the first time he had been at a hospital since his stay before. Being tended to at the Gilmore house had sent him into a catatonic state with his flashbacks; as soon as he had been assaulted with the smells of the hospital it had threatened to do much worse. It was completely irrational, but he couldn't stop his almost phobic response to the doors of the hospital. As the memories threatened to overwhelm him, his flight or fight response had kicked in, and he had fled from the hospital, unable to find the emotional strength to go past the physical barriers of the doors into the hospital.

It wasn't the building, it was horrors in his life the building seemed to represent to his psyche.

He knew that Rory was on the other side of those doors, but he couldn't bring himself to go in. He cursed the weakness that was within him, but he couldn't control it, he didn't know how. This _disease_ was like a part of him now, and he couldn't shake it.

"I'll wait out here," he hated admitting his cowardice as he saw it, but knew he wasn't strong enough to overcome it. It may be crediting the man with more perception than he had, but he knew Luke understood what he was talking about.

To his credit, Luke didn't try to force him, knew that this wasn't something he could fix with simple words. And as much as he felt for Tristan, and knew the agony he was going through, he couldn't stay out here to comfort him. Not when Lorelai was inside, waiting for news on Rory. "I'll come get you if there is any news," his tone was non-judgemental, and placed a hand supportively on Tristan's back for a moment before taking off at a jog for the hospital doors.

* * *

"Lorelai!" she heard her name being called as she rested her head in her hands, and she looked up to see Luke rushing towards her. She jumped to her feet, feeling her eyes fill with tears again as he enveloped her in his arms. 

"I'm so scared," she muttered the words into his shoulder, words she would never have dreamed of uttering before. That was the problem when you got in the habit of depending on someone, you couldn't stop.

"I know," Luke replied, holding her tightly, wishing there was something he could do to make everything allright. "It's going to be fine. She's going to be fine. Rory's young, she's strong, she'll pull through." It didn't matter that he had no medical basis for that opinion, he knew that it would be better for both of them if they could believe it.

Lorelai pulled away slightly, but kept his hand in hers as she led him to the seats available. "I brought Tristan," Luke felt the need to tell her as they sat down.

"Where is he?" she asked, refusing to relinquish his hand even now. She wiped the tears from her eyes with her free hand, and looked around for the blonde man. There was no thought in her mind to question the logic of his coming.

"Outside," she heard the emotion in Luke's voice, and looked up at him as he continued. "He couldn't come in. It was the hospital, it brings back too much for him. We had just gotten in the doors and he bolted like a bat out of hell. This isn't like my discomfort, I don't think he's capable of coming in."

"Poor boy," and even thought her words sounded like they were pitying, it was far from that. It was sympathy for the man, still a boy in many ways, who had been through so much. And as selfish as it was, she thanked God again for that all they'd been through, Rory had never had to see any of the true horrors that there were in the world.

* * *

Tristan knew that those people entering in and out of the hospital, and at the nurse's station inside the ER doors, thought he was insane. He couldn't blame them as he had been pacing outside the hospital since Luke had left him; every so often he would stalk towards the doors determinedly, but every time he got close he veered off and went back to pacing a safe distance away. 

He wanted to scream in frustration, and the tears that filled his eyes weren't of sorrow, but of anger. He wanted to be in there, be there for Rory more than anything, but he couldn't. It was like there was something inside him holding him back, some safety mechanism that made entering the hospital like running into a burning building. It was as if his survival instinct wouldn't let him go in.

This was why he and Rory wouldn't work. He was damaged goods, fucked up beyond all belief. This was worse than the nightmares, the flashbacks or flinching at the sound of a car backfiring. This put him into the fucking nuts territory, a place that he hadn't thought he was. And as insane and illogical as it all was, he couldn't do anything to change it. He couldn't make himself take a step past those doors.

He wanted to do was focus on her, but all he could think of was himself. His weakness, his inherent flaws. He should just turn around and go home, she would never know he was here anyway. He should just get a hold of Luke and get him to let him know what was going on. But as much as his mind told him to go, his heart wouldn't let him. Because even if he couldn't go inside, he couldn't leave her here, not when she might not come back.

He wished he had been near a hospital since his release, but why would he have? It was one thing with the dreams and episodes; as much as he hated them, he expected and understood them. They were part of his life. But this irrational fear that held him in it's grip was something else entirely, and as much as he convinced himself he knew it was nonsense, every time he made a motion towards the doors he backed away again in fear.

And as much as he was focusing on Rory, he felt that niggling little part in the back of his brain reminding him that they didn't let you be a doctor if you couldn't go into a hospital. He had thought that he would be strong enough to handle all this on his own, his own form of shock therapy, but this was proving that he couldn't. And the greater fear was that no psychiatrist would be able to help him either.

* * *

"How long is it going to take?" Luke asked Lorelai, still clutching her hand tightly in his. 

"I don't know," her voice was hollow. "They don't know. It depends on the damage, it depends on whether they have to remove the entire spleen, it depends on…..how successful they are." She choked out the last part.

"Do you want some coffee?" he asked, wanting to do something for her, anything to make this whole situation slightly more bearable. And, as before when they were in a crisis, the practical necessities were what he was good at.

"No," she replied, probably the first time she had ever answered negatively to that question, and he felt himself floundering at the response. He wanted her to send him on some errand, any errand, just to be helpful. He wanted to have some use, just so he could feel some control in this situation they could do nothing to change.

And, as if she could read into his mind, she leaned against him and, in a very un-Lorelai moment, admitted weakness, "I just need you to hold me."

* * *

He stood at the doors of the hospital. He couldn't go in, but something wouldn't let him leave either. It was like being stuck in some kind of purgatory, in limbo between two worlds. Already a few nurses had approached him, scared he was some kind of meth addict from his actions. He had laughed self-deprecatingly when one more daring woman had asked if he needed help, but managed to convince her he wasn't a dangerous addict before she called security. 

Tristan had been determined to avoid this feeling of helplessness. It was why he had wanted to become a doctor, so he would never have to walk among the wounded again, unable to help. It was why he pushed Rory away, never wanted to feel the inadequacies that came when he was reminded of just how far from a whole person he was. He wanted control of his life, but that was being denied to him in the worst way imaginable. Not even so much because of the impact on his career ambitions, but because he couldn't go in there when the woman that he loved was near death.

He really should go, accept defeat.

But even as the thought crossed his mind again, he went back to pacing, knowing that would never happen, not until he knew she was going to be okay.

* * *

It was a long time later when Lorelai's name was being called once again. "Ms.Gilmore?" the voice was soft, insistently waking her up, and she pulled herself up from where she had fallen asleep in Luke's arms, exhausted from emotions and tears. She could feel him stirring as well. 

It was the surgeon, the one who had operated on Rory, with a nurse behind her. And she was covered in blood, so much blood, and Lorelai could only raise her hand to her mouth in shock.

And as she felt Luke's arms encircle her, she didn't care if she was being hysterical, she didn't care what they thought of her. All she knew was that her daughters surgeon was standing there, covered in blood, and she wasn't smiling. All she could manage was a shrill, "Where's Rory?"

* * *

Tristan was sitting by the side of the hospital, his head in his hands, worn out and frustrated. Lack of sleep, emotional exhaustion and worry were eating away at him, and he had no energy left to give. All he could picture was Rory's face in his mind, at times smiling like she had after they had spent the night together, at times berating him for being weak, half a man, unable to be there for her when she needed him. He didn't know which one was more torturous. 

Darkness had long since settled in, but the ER kept busy. Injuries didn't just stop because it was night. Time after time he watched ambulances roll in, and time after time he kept waiting for someone to come out and tell him it was the end, they could do nothing for her. That was if they even remembered that he was here. He was insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but he still couldn't bring himself to leave.

It was even as he was picturing Rory again that he saw a man clad in flannel jog out of the hospital and glance around. "Luke," he tried to call, knowing the man was looking for him, but his voice was weak and scratchy. He tried again, trying to infuse his voice with volume and strength, "Luke!"

The man heard him the second time, but as he turned to Tristan he looked flustered and shaken, not in control as he had been before. He didn't even walk over to Tristan, just called out, "The doctor's out. And with that he jogged back in to the hospital. And it was if he had forgotten why Tristan was out here, it was as if he had just been out for a smoke or something and the man was coming to fetch him.

But at the same time it spurred him in to action in a way nothing else could have. Before he had always assumed that if anything happened, they would let him know, but Luke's vague statement told him nothing. He had to know; know if she was alive, know if she was okay, know everything. And he couldn't do that standing out in the darkness all by himself.

Of course none of the thought process was conscious; if he had stopped to think about everything the situation might not play out the way it did. He was chasing Luke into the hospital as soon as the older man had turned his back.

* * *

_Sorry about the wait. Massive school commitments that I am ignoring even now as I write. Who knew becoming an eye doctor would be so much work? And, writer's block sucks. Even with the chapter idea in my mind, I had a hard time writing it for awhile._

_I have this knack for posting stories so that they come on the site in the middle of the night, so nobody ever really knows its up. Since I imagine this happened again, so glad you found the story!_


	21. Finally

**Title: **What Lies Within Us

Chp. 21 Finally

**Disclaimer:** Unless I morphed into a Palladino last night, I own nothing. Hell, even the title comes from a quote by someone else.

**Intro:** If you're looking for this now, I suggest reading some previous chapters.

**Rating: **PG-13

**Author's note:** The end! I cannot believe it

Have you ever had a chapter that just did not want to have itself written? That was what this one was for me. The fic just didn't want to end itself.

And, how I said I was going to update Sun night? Sorry, went to a Grey Cup party instead (Canadian equivalent of the SuperBowl). And, for the past 4 days, internet went wonky (aka stopped working and I had multiple angry phone conversations with the provider). My multitude of excuses.

And, totally pimping my new story _The Worst Guilt_, another Trory even though I thought I wasn't going to go that direction after this fic.

* * *

Tristan sat in a chair in the waiting room, breathing deeply. He could see the doctors and the nurses bustling around, but their presence barely registered; he was lost in his own thoughts. The panic was still there, threatening to overcome him, but it was just in the recesses of his mind. He had done the hard part already. The panic could probably overcome him if he let it, but all that kept running through his mind was _She's going to be ok, she's going to be ok, she's going to be ok….._Even if that hadn't been confirmed yet, he was willing himself to believe it. 

He was giving the Gilmore's their privacy; somehow it seemed right to include Luke in that description. Rory was still unconscious after surgery. The doctors believed that they had done the surgery soon enough, that there would be no lasting damage, but they wouldn't know how well it had gone for sure until she woke up. There had been a lot of blood loss, her spleen had been removed, and there had been a lack of blood supply to some of the major organs. Her body was still sustaining life, but they had to know if she had the strength to wake up; if everything was truly healed. Lorelai and Luke were sitting with her, waiting for her to open her eyes and let them know she was allright.

They had never purposely shut him out, but he had willingly stayed behind, knowing that it wasn't his place to go in. He wasn't party of their little clique, their family. He was here for Rory, but eventually she would wake up and life would go on, and it would be as if today had never really happened. He should go home, leave them to their private family reunion, but he couldn't leave until he knew that she had woken up and all doubt was removed.

There were magazines strewed around the room, but he couldn't bring himself to do something so commonplace as reading as a time like this. He didn't know how other people stood it, sitting here calmly doing mundane things as they waiting for their loved ones to undergo life-threatening procedures. Even now, he couldn't just pick up a newspaper and read, not while there was any doubt.

He should offer to go in there to make the phone calls, take the burden off the two adults in that respect, but in reality it wasn't something he could do. He knew that Emily and Richard had to be called, as did Rory's father Christopher, but neither of the three would understand his voice over the phone, especially Rory's father who he had never met. Lorelai would call them herself when Rory woke up, she was in no state to do it now.

He stood up, needing to be doing something, as he hated sitting around there like a useless idiot. At the very least he could get coffee for Luke and Lorelai, knowing Rory's mother wouldn't budge while she lay there unconscious.

And if he got to check how Rory was at the same time, all the better.

* * *

He stood outside the hospital room, holding two cups of coffee in his hand and watched for a moment before going in. He could see Rory, looking so pale and lifeless lying against the bed. Although there were two other people in the room, it was silent save for the beeping of the machines monitoring her. 

Lorelai looked like she had aged ten years in the past couple hours. Every time Tristan had seen her before, some part of him had always been shocked that she was old enough to have a twenty-one year old daughter. Now she looked every year of her age, and then some. She was clasping Rory's hand tightly in hers, and rubbing her forearm gently. Luke just sat beside her, looking haggard, running his hand up and down her back every so often.

"I brought you both coffee," Tristan's voice was barely above a whisper when he said it, but it still seemed startlingly loud in the silent room. Lorelai muttered her thanks, even as she looked at him for only a moment to take it before turning back to Rory. She began to talk to Rory, as she must have been doing before, telling her how the coffee in this place was nothing like Luke's, but passable, and if Rory would just wake up she'd get her some.

He handed the second cup to Luke who had stood up to walk over to him, just as he remembered the man's abhorrence of the stuff. But, the elder man took it from him and began to drink, as if needing something to sustain. Tristan was about to turn and walk away, satisfying his need to know her condition for the time being, and was surprised when Luke followed him out into the hall.

Neither man said anything right away, Luke just sipping quietly at the coffee, not even thinking about the fact this was the first cup of the beverage that he had drunk in about five years.

"She'll wake up soon," Tristan felt the need to be the comforter, even though he had nothing to base that on. He could see the expression on Luke's face, and knew the man was worried not only for Rory's sake but for the woman who would be devastated if the outcome of this was not all fine. They all knew what the surgeon had said, that she would likely be fine, but all any of them could focus on was the chance that she might not.

"Yeah," Luke agreed, nodding his agreement, needing to believe the validity of the words.

It was only a moment before he finished his coffee and crushed the cup, sending it flying into a garbage can not a few feet away. It was then he seemed to snap out of his mindlessness and really look at Tristan. "If you want to take the truck and go get some sleep…." He began, but Tristan cut him off, shaking his head. None of them would be leaving until she woke up, whenever that was.

"I'm staying," was all he said, even as he had the slight feeling of the hospital's walls closing in around him, but he pushed it back.

Neither had said anything to each other up until this conversation since entering the hospital, and Luke gave a bit of a helpless shrug, "About before, when I came out to get you, I wasn't thinking clearly when I just ran back into the hospital."

"It got me in, didn't it?" Tristan replied wryly, leaning against the wall behind him. Being deprived of news of her had done it in a way nothing else could. That fear was still there, but now that he was in the hospital it didn't choke at him the way it had before. Somehow he knew that if he had to walk into a hospital again, while he may hesitate at the doors he would never freeze in fear again.

"She'll be glad to know you're here," Luke told him, as if secure in the knowledge she would wake up any minute.

"I know," Tristan sighed wearily, knowing that asking the two of them not to tell Rory he had come was a lost hope. He wouldn't belittle her either in pretending that she wouldn't care about his presence. This was the girl who had been professing her love for him not that long ago.

It was almost instantaneous in the way that his weariness caught up with him. He hadn't slept since those scant few hours with Rory after her grandparents' party, and they seemed a lifetime away. This wasn't the exhaustion that came like it had in the army, with physically demanding tasks. This was the bone-deep weariness that came from a lack of sleep, emotional upheaval, and no end in sight. He felt like he was an old man trapped in his young body. He wanted sleep, but he knew there was no way he could rest peacefully until he knew she was going to be completely allright.

And, he had nowhere to go. Outside of these three, there was nobody at this point who cared if he lived or died.

"I'm going to go back in," Luke finally said. "You'll be in the waiting room?"

Tristan nodded, but even as the two men started to turn away, Lorelai rushed out of the room.

She grasped onto Luke's arm, and for the first time in hours her eyes were filled with their usual light. "She's awake," her voice giddy from happiness and lack of sleep. "Get the doctor."

* * *

In the end, there was no need for Luke or Lorelai to tell Rory that he was there, she saw for herself. Even as Luke rushed to get the doctor, he poked his head into the room after Lorelai to assure himself that she was awake and fine. After all this worry, after all the stomach churning stress, it was hard to believe that it was all over, that she would live. But somehow he hadn't equated her being awake with her leaning up in bed, her eyes wide open, staring straight at him. 

He had left immediately.

The doctors hadn't come in all ER-style, racing and shouting codes. Apparently the three of them had been the only ones in the hospital truly doubting her ability to wake up. The doctor had simply come in, checked some vitals, smiled, and told Rory that everything was going to be just fine.

He was now sitting here in the waiting room yet again. Itwas as ifhe had formed his own little nest here. It seemed his own little domain despite the others in the room with him. He wasn't one given to exuberant grins, but he couldn't stop the slight upturn of his mouth as he sat there. It seemed wrong to show signs of happiness, not when he was sure most of the others still here were waiting on news of their loved ones, but his relief went beyond that concern.

It was hard to keep his eyes open, but he couldn't leave. He told himself it was because he had to wait for Luke, all his possessions were in the man's truck. That was all he was waiting for. He wasn't waiting to see Rory, it would solve nothing. It would just make his walking away that much more difficult.

He leaned against the back of his chair, settling in. It was hard to stay awake, and he felt his eyes droop wearily.

When he snapped them open again, Lorelai was standing in front of him. "You awake?" she asked shortly, snapping her fingers in front of his face, and he nodded dumbly.

She slid into the empty seat beside him. "She wants to see you," her words were cautious.

Somehow he had known this was coming. Something he had hoped for while at the same time praying it would never happen. "I shouldn't," was all he replied, not knowing how to explain.

"Yes, you should," and Tristan began to see the will of steel that resided in the elder Gilmore, something he hadn't been exposed to before. "It's tempting for me to pull out the argument that she's sick, and that being upset might damage her somehow, but that's a tactic best left for soap operas. You should because you can't just pretend you weren't here Tristan."

"I should go…" Tristan began hesitantly, knowing it had been like tempting fate to stay this long.

"But you didn't, did you? You stayed," Lorelai was forceful. "There's no denying you care Tristan."

"That was never a question," he reminded her, rubbing his hands over his face, "Caring was why I was leaving in the first place."

Somehow he couldn't decide whether Lorelai's voice was empathetic or cruel when she continued. "Grow up Tristan, and get in there. You want to debate this issue with me? Fine, I think you're being a chicken shit. The biggest coward I know. But, guess what, no matter what I think about your choices, _all of them_, my opinion doesn't matter. You stay on the boundaries, discussing this with Luke, discussing it with me, when you should be in there having it out with her. You really want to leave Tristan, don't just run away. The lack of closure merely postpones the confrontation. You want to know why you should go see her now? Because you owe it to her."

Tristan wanted to curse her bossiness, tell her to mind her own business, but he knew he couldn't. Knew that it wasn't an option with this woman. But he asked the question that had been at the back of his mind all this time, one that he had asked Luke, but seemed that much more pertinent with her, "Why are you allowing me within 10 feet of her?"

He could have phrased it more clearly, but she seemed to know what he meant. "I've seen my daughter decimated in so many ways today Tristan, all related to you. It's tempting to throw you out of this hospital, trust me. But I'm not the one who's in love with you, she is. Even if I've come to like you these past couple days, it's not even the point, not even that I witnessed how you overcame your greatest fear to be here for her. It's all about her. I trust her judgement, often above my own, and she has the certainty about you that I never had about a man until Luke."

He hated these endorsements of his character, the constant assurances that Rory loved him. He wanted her to reaffirm his decision, wanted her to rail at him and tell him that he wasn't worthy, that he would just hurt Rory. It made the walking away that much harder when he was literally the only person who believed it was the right decision.

He walked down the short distance to her room, but the hallway seemed endless before him. It was illogical, the slight fear that lay underneath, but it was there all the same.

When he walked in the room, she was propped up against the pillows in bed, and she opened her eyes when she heard him enter the room. "Hey," she replied softly, adjusting herself against the supporting pillows, more alert and with it than anyone who had just had their spleen removed deserved to be.

Her body was covered partially by the hospital gown and the bedcovers, but he could still see the bruises on her face, on her shoulders, the cut running down her forearm, and all he could think about was how much worse it must be underneath the covers.

"Hey," was all he replied, content to let her lead the conversation.

Rory looked at him as he stood there, obviously ill at ease. She loved this man more than she had ever thought was possible, more so even now, and she didn't know what to do about it. Not when he wasn't giving an inch, not when he was under his delusions of leaving. She didn't know how to make him understand, not right off the bat, so she stuck to the direct approach.

"I love you," she infused the words with the certainty she had in the emotion, hoping that it also passed for confidence.

This conversation was what she had been driving to Yale for. This conversation was what she had been unsuccessfully practising in her head when the car had slammed into her.

And it hurt, even though it was expected, when he flinched at her words, "Rory….."

"No, listen Tristan. We haven't talked, not really. That emotional trainwreck that was our morning after doesn't count. I was coming to Yale to talk to you Tristan, to make you listen to me. You're running away, and I won't let you," she was determined to feed on anger and determination rather than sadness.

"You're making this harder," was all he said, but he sat down in the chair beside her bed, hearing her mother's words condemning him for discussing the subject with everyone but her.

"Ok," Rory began, almost nervously when it became apparent he was simply waiting for her to continue. "I don't know what to say, how to make you truly believe what I'm telling you. I told you this before, and I'm going to tell you again; I love you Tristan, and _nothing_, absolutely nothing, will change that. Okay, maybe if you decided to sleep around, or…..allright, I'm babbling, I've got to stop. It's just I'm scared. Not of you, or because of you, but because of me. I don't know how to do this; I don't know how to convince you when a simple 'I Love You' isn't enough.

"Rory, listen to me," and she wanted to, but it was hard to focus when he took her hand in his without even realizing it. "This isn't about you having to prove anything to me. There's no point in denying at this point that I care about you too, but there's more to it all than that. This isn't about my being some self-sacrificing hero, it's simply about acknowledging that you and me would be in neither of our best interests."

"Yeah, denying something we both want is really in our best interests. This is us, trying to form a relationship, not solving world peace. It's not as complicated as we are making it. Boy likes girl, girl likes boy, they date, and life goes on." She tried to hold onto the irritation to keep her sane, but it was hard.

"If this were only about 'like', none of it would be like this," Tristan chided, still holding on to her hand absent-mindedly.

She wanted to scream, she wanted to throttle him, and she wanted to cry, all at the same time. "Stop being an idiot! I understand the logic you threw at me before, at least intellectually, but that doesn't make it right. I'm not asking you to promise me forever Tristan, I'm just asking you to give us the chance to try."

"I'm not strong enough to handle you walking away," he had to be honest, as much as it made him sound like a weakling.

She wanted to reassure him she would never leave, even if it was a promise she couldn't honestly make. But she knew that she would never leave him for the reasons that he feared. She wanted to reassure him that he was the strongest person that she knew, but that wasn't appropriate either. She wanted to say something, wanted to stop him even as he slipped his hand from hers and stood up, even as he walked towards the door, but somehow every thought she wanted to say would just make it worse.

Rory watched him hesitate at the door, and she knew at this point that this wasn't how this was supposed to go. This wasn't how she was supposed to have handled it. It was easy to be confrontational, to act as if irritated. She was trying to convince him with intellect when that wasn't what it would take, what he needed to hear. This wasn't the throwing her pride to the wind she had sworn she would do when she reached Yale.

So, she did what to her was the most humbling thing, and she uttered words she had never even admitted to herself in terms of anyone before. "I need you," her voice was strained as he paused, his hand on the doorknob. "I need you, Tristan."

He didn't say anything, but turned to face her, unable to leave at the naked plea in her voice. "I'm not proposing marriage Tristan, but I need you in my life. I am the inherently weak one, not you. Maybe you have it twisted around; maybe I'm worse for you than you think you are for me."

Tristan gave a weak laugh, "Rory…."

"I'm asking you, no let's make that begging you, to let me be a part of your life. Maybe it's co-dependency, maybe not, but I can't just let you go." She didn't know how to adequately express how much she felt.

"Rory," he voice seemed so gentle, "You know you are about one of the people furthest from being in a co-dependant relationship. I'm not doing this to cause you pain, I am doing it to save you from it."

Where before she would have cursed, now she cajoled, and played what she thought was the trump card, "You were here for me."

"Pardon?" obviously he was here at the hospital, his presence made it self-evident.

"Luke, he told me," Rory explained, "About you…outside….and you came in."

He didn't react in the way she thought he would, but if anything looked more forlorn. He himself wished Luke hadn't brought it up. "Yes, I had…..a moment." Tristan didn't know how to explain. "But, it's not like this makes me all better Rory. The only reason I could even overcome this fear is because I didn't have time to think when I rushed in. You want to know how many hours I paced out there Rory? Knowing you were in here, possibly dying, and I couldn't make myself come in."

"But you did," she tried to make him focus on the important part.

"It doesn't change anything," he tried not to get frustrated, but had the wind taken out of him when she interrupted.

"I know your fears, your memories, your scars, your nightmares are all things you are going to have to live with for the rest of your life. That wasn't my point." She itched to touch him in some way, but he was too far from the bed. "My point was that we overcame the hurdle. Allright, maybe that wasn't the right choice of words, I was unconscious. But what I'm trying to point out slightly less than poetically is while that this 'disease' as you call it is a part of you, it doesn't define you. You sitting here, in the hospital, is proof of that. I'm not saying you can overcome it all, you can't, but there will be ways to make it work."

He could feel himself caving at her words, despite them being not far from what she had uttered earlier. Their discussion, going around in circles, wore him down. That was the most apt description. It was hard to listen to her entreaties; he could only imagine how hard it was for her to plead with him that way. In all this, he had never had to put himself out there like that, she had taken the emotional first steps. He didn't want to keep denying what he wanted so much.

At her words, "Just give me a chance Tristan," he broke completely.

She had closed her eyes in defence, having nothing else to give him. She couldn't watch him walk away again. So it was with surprise that she shot open her eyes when she felt a hand graze her cheek.

"I might hurt you," his voice was more boyish and scared than she thought it had ever been in his life.

"I might hurt you too," was her gentle rejoinder as he leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers quickly before leaning back, their comments a short summary of the angst that had settled in since they had slept together, "But that's always the risk."

He could taste salt from tears she had shed as he pulled away from her, and simply settled her hand once again in his. He flashed back to that first, although meaningless at the time, kiss so many years ago. He wanted to ask again if she was sure, but knew she would answer in the affirmative no matter what. He didn't know if this was the best choice, he knew it was the most selfish one he could make. He wanted her to be there to share good news with, he wanted her to be there when he had the nightmares, and he wanted him to be the one she saw when she woke up in the morning.

So, he was willing to take the chance, God help them both.

He looked at the girl who had more courage in her pinky finger than he had in his entire being. He, who had given into his fears, because concern for her well-being had coincided so well with running away. He wanted to give her that final out, to let know that she always had the option, "If it ever becomes too much…."

"It won't," this time, she was the one who leaned forward and kissed him, wincing slightly at the pain.

And he just nodded, knowing that maybe it would, and maybe it wouldn't, but it wasn't something he could control.

"So," he felt his lips curving slightly as he squeezed her hand a little harder, "You wanna get a cup of coffee sometime?"

And she just laughed, tears glistening in her eyes.

* * *

_Ah, the end. Long time in coming. I could have kept going for awhile, but it seems appropriate to end it here. Dealing with them, together, would be like a whole separate fic. It was a hard write, mostly because I've been writing this fic for so long I think. To me, the end seems so anti-climactic. _

_I hope you all enjoyed the fic, I enjoyed writing it even when it frustrated the hell out of me._


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